


The Wheels Within

by Ghyste



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Action/Adventure, Complete, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 04:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 23,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghyste/pseuds/Ghyste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Adam's defeat, the spoils of the 314 Project are up for grabs and Willow and Spike are drawn into a web of intrigue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a non-au story set between the events of Seasons 4 and 5

Spike was pacing, as he had paced for hours now. In truth, it didn't really help but still he continued. After all, he had already destroyed everything he could lay his hands on and, with the sun still high in the sky, there was little else to do to keep despair at bay. His best hope for freedom had gone, in the death throes of Adam, in the ashes of the Initiative. The previous night he had watched as the army had moved in and could imagine their subterranean labours - a human sized swarm of worker ants systematically destroying any trace that the place had ever existed and carting away the information that might have helped him. 

He cursed under his breath, a constant litany in counterpoint to the sound of his pacing feet. Ancient phrases culled from the experience of more than a century of years spent in dingy taverns and gin palaces, more recent obscenities from the crowd at the White City and Trafford Park and the punks at the Marquee on a Saturday night. None of it helped. A millennium of curses wouldn't, couldn't have helped now.

He'd never been given to patience and some nights he thought about just saying "to hell with it all" and walking away. But in the end reason always replaced rage. Maybe freedom seemed impossible just now, but the Hellmouth was the place where the impossible roamed the streets on a nightly basis so he was staying put in Sunnyhell until he found a way out of his bondage and made the Slayer pay. After all, it was her fault; the whole damned lot of it. Because of her he had been captured...violated...emasculated. And now he was rapidly reaching the unpalatable conclusion that it was to her and her little friends that he would once more have to turn to ensure his continued existence, at least until that one impossible chance came by. Hell, the demon world was closed to him now; the satiation of violence long held captive had seen to that. So what was left? Only the human world - and that meant the Slayer's world.

Days had lengthened into weeks as he had tried to ignore this truth, but now he needed to face the fact that somehow he was going to have to worm his way back into their little society, and that wasn't going to be easy. He had tried to split up their little gang, tearing open the festering wounds that lay just below the surface of their friendship. He had betrayed them to their enemy and tried to lead the Slayer to her death. He doubted that "Hey, it's not my fault that you forgot I was a bloody demon" was going to cut much ice this time round. Still, there had to be a way and if he just paced a bit more he was bound to come up with it.

His unpleasant reverie was abruptly disturbed by sounds from just beyond the crypt door. He didn't recognise the soft footfalls, and the smell was unfamiliar - human though, that was for sure. He eyed the stone sarcophagus that had served as refuge on previous occasions when unwelcome visitors had come a-calling, but the soldier boys were gone and he was damned if he was going to hide from any stray mortal whose path had led them there. Instead he struck a nonchalant pose against the edge of the stone slab and waited. 

The man that stepped through the doorway was unremarkable, though hardly the sort you found hanging around graveyards. Of medium height and build with mid-brown hair and the kind of features that melted into a crowd. The only thing that marked him out was the exquisiteness of his tailoring. Despite appearances, Spike knew quality clothing when he saw it and that suit could have only come from Savile Row. 

The man paused for a second in the threshold, eyes adjusting to the dim interior of the tomb.

"Mr, ah, Spike I presume?"

"Well it's not bloody Dr Livingston, mate."

The vampire bit back his surprise at the Suit's knowledge of his name, contenting himself with a sardonic lift of his eyebrow before he continued,"Well? Get on with it before I have your bleedin' guts for garters."

The Suit remained unperturbed. "There is a matter which I would like to discuss with you, something to our mutual benefit. And, before you make any more threats relating to the continuance of my bodily well being, I should inform you that I am aware of your current...limitations."

Spike fumed silently. Did everyone in this misbegotten town know about the soddin' chip? But he wanted to hear more and, forcing down his anger, he asked: "So, what's this proposition?" 

"Please let me introduce myself. My name is Felix Radburn." He handed the vampire a slim, white card. "I represent the interests of Reculance, the Corporation which has purchased the site formally known as Lowell House. The whole site - I think you know what that means?" 

Spike had been fingering the white card, absently noting the black copperplate writing, but at these last words he looked up sharply.

"The Initiative? But that's been destroyed. I saw it being destroyed."

"My client has certain connections with the Military and, ah, persuaded them to hand over the premises largely undamaged. The work you saw was a diversion necessitated by the appallingly lax control the former occupants exercised over what should have been highly classified information."

"If your client is so bloody well-connected then what do you need with the likes of me?"

"My client believes that the head of this particular arm of the Reculance Corporation is acting against the best interest of the company as a whole. They have somewhat specialised needs with regard to certain of their employees and we have reason to believe that they will be approaching you. I am here with a pre-emptive bid for your services to provide us with a man on the inside. Of course I use the word "man" in the loosest possible sense. Ordinarily, we wouldn't trust one of your ilk, but needs must when the Devil drives and I believe that I can make you an offer you can't refuse. Through Reculance, we have access to certain cutting edge technologies in which you might have some personal interest." 

"So you're saying that if Spike's a good boy, he'll get his chip removed. Well, been there, done that and it was a bust"

"Ah yes, the Adam affair. An unfortunate incident, but what can you expect when you let the Military play with sharp objects? We on the other hand, do not jeopardise valuable commodities such as yourself. Complete this assignment successfully and you will not only have access to our research, but will also be offered further employment, some of which may prove to have a certain personal satisfaction attached." 

"And the blokes you're after - why should they come to me?"

"You come highly recommended."

"Friends in all the right places, huh?"

"Enemies in all the right places." 

Spike's curiosity was piqued. He took a cigarette from the packet in his pocket and lit it, drawing smoke deeply into long-dead lungs. "So what'd I have to do?"

The Suit sniffed faintly with disapproval and Spike was almost amused that a man so obviously accustomed to doing business with creatures that drank human blood thought that smoking was a filthy habit. Suppressing a grin, he looked enquiringly at the Suit.

"Well?"

"For now just watch and learn. You will receive further instructions in due course."

The wheels in Spike's mind were turning. This seemed too good to be true. Only moments before he had been reduced to thinking of ingratiating himself with his worst enemy just to survive and now here was a chance for money and freedom. Plus the prestige that accrued from association with what was obviously a powerful organisation. Given his recent run of luck this seemed way too good to be true but, whatever lay in store, it still had to be better than any alternative he had come up with so far. 

A question occurred to him. "How much leeway will I have in the way I operate?" 

"We like to hire operatives that can think for themselves. You will, of course be limited by our usual contract of employment containing standard clauses on remuneration, confidentiality, vengeance curses in the event of dereliction of duty etc. but beyond that you will be free to act in any way you see fit - so long as it is in our interest."

Spike smiled and reached for the contract.


	2. Chapter 2

Spike didn't have to wait long for the next job offer to turn up. It was far less refined in its way, but he had been prepared for as much. He was nursing a beer in a dingy bar when Nat, a sometime acquaintance from the old country, joined him. 

"Hey Spikey boy, come down in the world a bit, haven't you?"

Itching to slap the grin off Nat's face, Spike nevertheless replied mildly: "Just regrouping. Not the kind of place I'd 'ave expected to see you either."

"I was looking for you. Got something you might be interested in, down on your luck as you are."

Spike bristled but still controlled his temper, though it was becoming touch and go. "What's on offer?"

"Spot of lucrative employment."

"I'm listening."

As Nat settled into the booth opposite, Spike reflected that his involvement in this business should not come as a surprise. Before he had been turned in the mid-eighteenth century, Nat had been a rogue and a libertine; bent on squandering what little remained of the family fortune. He'd been one of Francis Dashwood's bunch of posers who used satanic regalia to spice up their bawdy drinking sessions. Spike had always been amused by the fact that a devil, if not The Devil, really had taken Nat in the end. Anyway, one thing that remained from the mortal whose dead body now sat opposite him was a love of grand schemes - he was drawn to them like a bee to honey. If anyone was going to be mixed up in this it was Nat, who now leaned forward conspiratorially.

"I hear you were in the thick of that fracas with the soldier boys the other week." 

"Yeah.... and?"

"Well, the place has been bought by an organisation I'm associated with. I'm setting up a team and I need a Second. When I heard you were in town I thought you might be interested - it should be a riot and the pay's good."

Spike feigned surprise at the revelation "Hiring vampires, why?"

"Nature of the business. It's all too tempting for mortals."

"Sound's interesting, but I'm not really flavour of the month these days. Sure you want me for a Second?"

Nat looked serious for a moment. "You know the place for a start but, more importantly, this is dangerous stuff. Unpopular as you are with the vampire community, if something goes down you've got no one to turn to but me. I like that."

Spike leaned back and scanned the ceiling as if ruminating upon the offer, but in reality his mind was working ten to the dozen. Nat wasn't giving much away yet and he didn't want to bite too early and arouse suspicions - there was too much at stake.

"Well, it's like this. There's no denying that I'm on my uppers but I' m not taking something on without knowing a bit more about it."

"So the rumours are right, then. You just haven't got it any more, have you? Did they take away your balls along with your bite?"

Spike erupted out of his seat. With his face barely inches away from the older vampire's he snarled, "I'm in."

Seemingly unfazed, Nat nodded. "Thought you would be. Now, let's get a move on."

They left the bar and headed towards UC Sunnydale. Nat was being uncharacteristically quiet and, when Spike could bear it no longer, he asked: "So, when do I get some information?"

With a look that Spike supposed was supposed to be enigmatic, but actually came off as daft, Nat said, "I'll explain when we get there. Walls have ears."

Spike restrained himself from pointing out that there were no walls around, with or without the proverbial ears. He'd thought that as a double agent he'd hold all the facts, but it seemed that all of the parties involved were conspiring to keep him ignorant. It was not a situation that he was prepared to tolerate for too long. 

Eventually their steps led them to Lowell House, which even at this hour of the night was a hive of activity. Underground there were yet more contractors labouring to install unrecognisable pieces of equipment. Nat ignored them and led the way through the white, featureless corridors. As they walked, he finally began to fill Spike in on the situation.

"This place has been bought by a big corporation, name of Reculance. They've got more resources than you could shake a stick at and a turnover that would make a small European nation green with envy. Thing is, the company's run by a bunch of old fools obsessed with the bottom line. The Boss here, Georg Rauk, is one of the bright young things, prepared to push the envelope and make things happen. He's hooked into a new scheme and, if it comes off, he not only takes the company but he and his friends will hold the richest, most powerful people in the world to ransom."

"So, what's the project?" 

"He's supposed to be here to find out whether the information on non-humans collected by the Government can be translated into any profitable sidelines like drugs and..." casting a sideways glance at Spike "...behaviour modification techniques."

Spike winced as Nat continued expansively.

"Of course Rauk has got something far bigger planned. What does every human want down in the murky depths of his soul? What do we have that they don't?"

"Apart from boyish good looks and a pert bum, you mean?"

"Immortality"

Spike had been prepared for something a bit on the dodgy side, but this was plain absurd. "Immortality? Well, excuse me for bursting your bubble, but why the hell should we want to help humans become immortal?"

Nat's face took on a beatific smile and when he spoke there was a definite whiff of the evangelical about it. "That's the great thing. Reculance'll be the only suppliers of a priceless commodity, so they're not going to sell it for mere money. It's only going to be available to the powerful because they're the ones that really want it and they're the ones who can pay by word and deed. If you can offer a human immortality you can ask them to do anything, absolutely anything, in return and they will. Rauk is going to run the world and we'll be part of it."

Spike was just beginning to wonder if he had fallen into a den of lunatics when he realised they had reached a familiar part of the complex, close to the secret laboratory that had formerly served as Adam's lair. Nat turned to him, his face now serious, and spoke: "OK, we're about to meet Rauk. If he likes you, you're in, if not... well let's just say that there's no room for any funny business, got it?"

"And if I don't 'get it'?"

"You leave here in an urn. He's a good bloke, but a bit unpredictable. This project is his obsession - show enthusiasm and you'll be well in but any hint of disrespect for him or his ideas and you're ash and gone - it's your choice"

Spike shrugged his shoulders. " No choice there, mate. Lead on."


	3. Chapter 3

Spike and Nat entered a well-lit room and for the second time in as many days Spike found himself taken aback, not by what he saw but by what he didn't see. The man seated behind the desk was far from the hatchet-faced corporate type he had been expecting. Instead, the man who faced him was a young with a sunny, open expression. He loped round the table extending his hand, his movements giving away the fact that the body beneath his clothes was as toned and perfect as the face framed by golden curls. All in all, Spike felt as if he was faced with Cupid, if Cupid had ever graduated from his nappy. No, it was not at all what he had been expecting and he stood nonplussed for a fraction of a second until Nat's discreet throat clearing prompted him to put out his hand in return. His fingers were immediately engulfed in the man's warm grasp and his arm pumped up and down enthusiastically.

"So, you're Spike then? Nat here has told me a lot about you."

"All bad, I hope."

"Bad in just the right way. If everything I've heard is true then you're just the man we need on this job, and I'm sure you'll find the terms and conditions very attractive".

Spike replied in what he hoped were enthusiastic tones. "Yeah, I'm very excited about it."

"Great, glad to have you on board. Keep your nose clean and there's big things in store for you. But don't think it'll be a cushy number. It's a new future we're creating and I expect a hundred and ten percent out of all my staff, just like I do of myself. Nat there'll show you the ropes" With that he turned and bounded out of the room. Spike felt exhausted just watching him.

Nat gave a whistle-stop tour of the facility, but after they had passed the nth spotlessly white laboratory his mind began to drift. Plus he was getting hungry - pigs' blood just didn't fill you up the same as the real deal. Noticing his distraction and correctly guessing the root cause, Nat suggested that they drop by the canteen for a bite to eat. Whilst Nat's sense of humour often left much to be desired, on this occasion his pun had been dead on the mark and the canteen turned out to be the rows of holding cells where Spike himself had once been a "guest". The former occupants were long gone and the few cells that were occupied held a rag-tag bunch of humans.

Opening the door of one of the cells, Nat pulled out an underfed and grimy female and thrust her unresisting form in Spike's direction. "Not much of a selection at the moment, but once the testing procedures get underway there'll be plenty of cast-offs to snack on."

"You're forgetting my little problem, mate."

"Not at all."

With blinding speed Nat assumed his game face and ripped the female's throat out. Blood gushed from the ragged wound into his cupped hand. Discarding the body, he held the brimming palm-full in Spike's direction. 

A test then... 

Spike's gaze locked with Nat's amber gleam for a fraction of second, and during that second he nearly walked away. But this was his chance and he would do what was necessary - if only that. The man would bend his neck, but the demon would be uncowed. Holding fast to his human face, Spike bent and lapped the crimson liquid.

A shock, almost orgasmic in its intensity, shot through him. It had been so long, so very, very long since he had tasted human blood. It may have lacked the rush of raw emotions that came with the kill, but for now it was enough. Spike lost himself in pleasure, returning only when he realised that he was suckling the last traces from Nat's palm. His mouth left the cold skin and he raised his head, dislodging the hand now tangled into his hair.

"Mine"

Spike's eyes met Nat's and held them for a long moment as the air almost crackled with tension. Then he lowered his head, and captured the last smear of blood with a lazy sweep of his tongue.

"Yours"

Nat smiled possessively and Spike reflected that he would not be quite so self-satisfied if he could have heard the unspoken codicil *for as long as necessary, wanker*

Later, on his way back to the crypt, he reflected that his vow to Nat had been a low point in an otherwise successful day. He hadn't had to show deference to anyone since that bastard Angelus, and then he had been wheelchair bound and helpless. He shrugged philosophically - perhaps it wasn't so different now, given his current condition. Anyhow, last time he had defied the odds and triumphed, short lived though that triumph might have been. This time it would all come right, he would get everything that he wanted and it would last as long as he damned well wanted it to.

He continued reviewing the events of the previous night and thought he'd done OK, all things considered. He was on the inside and Nat believed that he had him right where he wanted him. Now all he had to do was keep his eyes and ears open and find out what the suit wanted. Then it would be all plain sailing - goodbye chip, hello fangs in the Slayer's neck.

One thing bothered him, however. The level of technology in that place was incredible and if there were secrets to be had they would be stored electronically. Though he kept it quiet he was no slouch in the computer department, but he could tell that this was way out of his class. Moreover, he suspected that it would take a considerable amount of time and effort to get anything useful out of the system and his duties would hardly allow him to spend hours at the keyboard. He doubted that Nat would buy the old "just having a game of solitaire" routine night after night. 

Crap, crap, crap...and crap. The all too familiar swearing began again, until he suddenly halted as a thought struck him. Of course - *he* didn't need to spend his time on the computers; he just needed some help. An operation like that had to be hiring and if he could get the right person in place he'd be home and dry. But who? He could always buy someone, but he'd never be able to trust that they'd stay bought. What he needed was someone who was gullible enough to help him out of the goodness of their heart. 

Then as he sifted through the, admittedly limited, candidates for the job he struck pure gold. There was someone who would go to the edge of doom with him if they thought it was the right thing to do and, what was even better, it was someone he could risk with impunity because their destruction would destroy the Slayer. 

He threw back his head and laughed. It was all too bloody perfect - what he needed was Willow.


	4. Chapter 4

Spike spent the rest of that day, and the one that followed it, reviewing everything that he knew about Willow Rosenberg and adding to it where he could. He was going to need to hold all the cards if he was to persuade her to help him. He knew she'd been through a rough time; his own close encounter with the saccharine side of the Slayer had been testament enough to that, but things had perked up as the year had progressed with the girl finding comfort and self-esteem in her growing powers and a new love. 

Still, that was then and this was now. He'd found out that Willow was living alone this summer while her parents were abroad and her girlfriend wallowed with the pigs in whatever Hicksville town she came from. Her friends, on the other hand, still had their squeezes close by which left Willow very much a third wheel at social gatherings. In particular, he'd noticed that the Slayer's Soldier Boy was increasingly taking the place of her other friends on nightly patrols. All of this had left Willow progressively more isolated and, whilst he doubted the situation was the result of anything other than the normal tunnel vision of the young, if he were lucky it would have started to gnaw away at some of Willow's recently regained self esteem leaving her ripe for the plucking. He just needed to play those cards of his right and she would fall into his hands like a juicy plum. 

By the next evening he felt he was ready put the next phase of his plan into action. Telling Nat he had a few unspecified things to do he made his way to the Rosenberg's, travelling via Willie's where he paid off a few debts and broke a few heads to establish an alibi. Sauntering around the corner into her road he saw a single light on in an upstairs room. He could just imagine her up there all alone. And what did lonely little girls need, apart from a damn good shagging? That's right, they needed to be needed. Well, he needed her now, and he was bloody well going to get her. 

Of course there was one little snag - he had never been invited into the Rosenberg's house. Still, he was fairly sure that he could turn even that to his advantage. If she felt safe she was more likely to let the barriers come tumbling down. He pondered for a moment whether he should just climb up to her window, but decided that there was a time and a place for fairy-tale melodramatics and this was not it. Grinding his cigarette butt into the ground he strolled up the front path and rang the doorbell. A few moments later he heard the sound of soft footsteps and the door opened. Christ, had the silly chit learned nothing in all these years? 

"Spike?"

He was hearing that a lot recently. If he had breath he would have sighed, but instead just fixed her with his most earnest look. 

"I need to talk to you."

The girl's scent was a mixture of confusion and fear, but mixed with it all was the sharp tang of curiosity.

"What about?"

"I need your help."

She took a step backwards, her heartbeat picking up the pace and he knew that she was remembering another time and place when he had asked for her help. 

"A spell?"

He had to knock this train of thought on the head right and proper. Old memories of a dank cellar and a broken bottle in the face were hardly going to help his case. He needed her willing or not at all.

"Nope, it's not your magic I'm after, it's your brain."

She raised her eyebrows in a cynical look, but now there it was a thin wisp of pleasure underlying all the rest. Boy, did he know how to push the right buttons - her face might deny the gratification she was feeling at his words but her scent never could. 

"My brain?"

"You heard. I got something I need to do, something important but I need someone with your kind of smarts than to help me through with it. It's a long story, so why not settle down and let me explain"

"Here?"

"Yeah, I figure you'd feel safer on the other side of that doorway and I'm hardly going to catch a chill."

"OK."

She sank to the floor, crossing her legs, just on the safe side of the doorway. Perhaps she had learned something after all - about him at any rate. He joined her at ground level.

"Look, let's be frank: I'm desperate. Got nowhere to go, can't hunt and can't feed. The only people who helped me out were you lot and I screwed that up right and dandy. Don't you go thinking I'm regretting it - I'm not, but I'm practical. If I'm going to survive I'm going to need help. I don't think for a moment you'll all forget, but I'm willing to earn my way back in. I've learned about something important that's going down, but I need help to make it pay off. Your kind of help."

She blinked at him. "Why should I trust you?"

"You don't need to trust me, you just have to help me."

"Buffy...."

"Buffy doesn't know, Buffy doesn't get to know until we're ready to impress her."

He could see it in her eyes, her need as potent in its own way as his own. She might have started to grow up but somewhere deep inside was still that scared little kid that thought she was nothing, just like there was in all of us. Hell, maybe this bit of ego boosting was his good deed for the day - a sort of last meal for the dying man...or girl in this case, 'cause one way or another there was no chance she'd still be breathing when he was done with her. 

"Impress her, impress her how?"

Spike allowed himself to relax a fraction, slightly surprised that he had become so tense without realising it. And yet, perhaps the tension was warranted? She was interested, but she wasn't his, not yet. The hook was baited, but he needed to play this just right.

"The Initiative wasn't destroyed, some company has taken it over. I don't know what they're after, but they're hiring vampires so it can't be good. I figure that if I can work out what it is and how to stop it I'll be quids in with the Slayer. That'll make it safe for me to show my face around here again."

"Where do I come in?"

Come on little fishy...

"They're hiring technicians. Only for the grunt stuff, but I figure with your talents you can crack the computers while I deal with the security side. If we work together we can hand these goons over to the Slayer on a silver platter."

"Will it be dangerous?"

"Dangerous? With the wallop you can pack? Your pals may underestimate you, but I know who I'd like at my back if the shit goes down and it ain't the Slayer."

Her eyes lit up - bingo! She was hooked, now all he had to do was reel her in.

"Help me do this. Please, Willow - you're the only one who can...."


	5. Chapter 5

Sometime later, invitation firmly in place, Spike and Willow sat in her lounge going over the plans for the next day. Willow was to go to the site office early, brimming with enthusiasm about a data inputting job that she had seen advertised. She would play down her experience, not difficult given that much of it had been gained illicitly, and play up her ingenuousness. Privately Spike thought that second point wouldn't be too difficult either. Once inside she, like Spike, would spend some time establishing her bona fides before getting to grips with the real work. Meeting up to check notes was going to be a problem. Spike was fairly confident that he could elude any tail that Nat placed on him, but he couldn't afford to be seen in public with Willow or even have people noticing an alteration in his habits. The campus seemed the best bet. Though uncomfortably close to Lowell House it was at least partly occupied over the summer and both Spike and Willow had legitimate reasons for being there.

Spike gave Willow a rundown of the people he had met and a description of the place. She seemed quietly confident that she could get to grips with the computer system, but one thing really bothered her - whether they would recognise her from any surveillance film that had survived Adam's wrecking spree. Spike pointed out that he would never have been let in the place if such tapes existed, but she was still uncomfortable.

Given she was already concerned about the place he thought it wise to refrain from mentioning the canteen at this stage - that sort of thing wasn't going to please her any. Besides, he was damned if he was going to let her jeopardise things by deciding to be a heroine as far as the food chain was concerned.

He really hoped she wouldn't lose her bottle overnight. What was called for was some patented Spike charm. For a split second he considered a spot of seduction, a thought his body found by no means distasteful. And why not? After all, she was developing into quite a looker and her taste in partners was certainly catholic enough to encompass his like. He turned the idea over in his mind. Whilst he didn't like to brag, he had no doubt that a session in the sack with him would leave her like putty in his hands. Unfortunately for his libido, he needed a partner with their full compliment of wits on the morrow. Instead he lightly brushed her cheek with his knuckles and said, "Willow, we can do this...you can do this, I know you can".

She held his gaze steadily, nodded and replied, "Yes, we can do it." 

With the feeling of a job well done, he left her to sleep for what was left of the night and made his way back home to crash in front of the telly. But once he had settled down with a beer he found his mind wandering back to the woman he had just left. Woman.... yes, she was that now. Somewhere along the line the child had grown up, even if she sometimes didn't believe it herself. Maybe it was just that his senses were sharper after the first human blood he had tasted in nearly a year, but he found that he could recall in the most precise detail the feel of her skin, the murmur of blood just below the skin and the scent that whispered around her. He'd been too focused on the job at hand to examine the momentary flash of desire he'd felt earlier, but Christ did he want her now. Maybe the death that was to be the inevitable reward for her role in this would be a brief one - and wouldn't that piss the Slayer off something chronic? Well, in the short time she had before he ripped her throat out, at any rate. Or maybe he'd let Willow do the honour...

The thought of the redhead with her fangs in the Slayer's neck sent a bolt of pleasure straight to his groin and rendered his, admittedly snug, jeans far too tight. Holding the picture in his mind he reached down and released himself, running fingers over the ice-cold flesh with increasing momentum. 

"Am I interrupting something?"

Spike nearly leapt out of his hyper-sensitised skin as the soft English voice cut through the haze of his desire. 

"What the fuck..."

"An appropriate, if unoriginal, expletive - given the circumstances"

The Suit stood there, as unperturbed as he would have been had he interrupted a room full of little old ladies taking afternoon tea, rather than a horny vampire taking his solitary pleasure. 

Spike tucked himself away and rose to his feet with as much aplomb as he could summon in the circumstances. What he wouldn't give to put a dent into that exquisitely tailored armour. He looked down at the palm that had so recently been engaged in more pleasurable activities and then up at the man in front of him.

"I won't offer to shake hands"

This was rewarded with a faint flicker of repulsion from Radburn. Not much, but it was there and Spike filed it away along with all the other minute observations that had extended his often precarious existence all these years. When this had become instinctive, like long abandoned breathing, he couldn't recall but in its way it was as necessary as that old acquaintance.

As the silence began to stretch thin between them, Spike figured that he'd better at least appear to play the game. He wiped his hand on the leg of his jeans and enquired, "So, to what do I owe the honour of this visit?"

"I have some information you might find valuable. A dossier we have compiled about your new employer"

"And you didn't think it I should see it before I walked into that nest of vipers?"

"No."

Spike was momentarily taken aback by the bluntness of this statement, then drawled, "It truly warms the cockles of my heart to know how much you care about your employees." Sadly, it seemed that his irony was wasted.

"Useful though you may be, you will only receive information as and when we deem it necessary and appropriate. Use it prudently and it will help you. Pass it on and we will eliminate you." 

"Well gee, thanks."

Spike took the manila folder and turned away, meaning to ignore the Suit until he left of his own accord. But a name, dropped into the silence, had him whirling back.

"Willow Rosenberg."

Not knowing where this would lead, he tried for neutrality: "What of her?"

"We approve your choice of allies, but would prefer that she remain undamaged if at all possible."

"Why?"

"Let us just say that we have had our eye on that particular young lady for some time and would not like a potential asset to be unnecessarily compromised."

With that, the Suit turned on his heel and departed, leaving Spike to his warm beer and cooled ardour.


	6. Chapter 6

A few days later found Spike lurking in the grubby depths of the Grotto, a part of the campus that had, not unsurprisingly, been shunned by the big city conference types who were currently infesting it. The venue had the benefit of being deserted and, being partly subterranean, also provided protection from the sun and allowed ingress via the sewers. 

The last few days had passed uneventfully as he had settled into his new position with Reculance. Short nights of overseeing the grunts and kow-towing to the powers and long days of planning and restless pacing. The food in the canteen made a nice change from the usual butcher's cast-offs, but it made him restive. Nat was keeping a weather eye on him, of course, and there was a possessive gleam at the back of those eyes that make his hackles rise. Still, he'd deal with that if it ever became a problem. He hadn't laid eyes on Willow - the techies were on the day shift and kept well away from the real work of the company - but today he would get her report.

He heard movement above him and the tread of soft footsteps approaching. If it hadn't been for his other senses telling him that this was Willow, his eyes might have momentarily fooled him into thinking it was someone else. The fiery hair was now dyed a deep mahogany. She was wearing make-up, and a smart business suit had replaced the trademark quirky clothing. A cloud of heavy perfume hung in the air about her, redolent of violets, which almost drowned out the smells of mildew and old burning but not that which was essentially Willow.

"That won't fool a vampire, you know. Not if he already knows your scent."

He moved unhurriedly towards her, catching hold of her wrist and drawing it up so that he could inhale deeply at that point where her blood thrummed so close to the surface.

"Your scent is as individual as your fingerprints. You can't disguise that."

His tongue snaked out and lapped delicately along the path of her vein as instinct started taking over from practicalities. He felt her shiver, partly with fear and partly with desire, as the pulse beneath his lips started to race. Abruptly the spell that had been winding its way around the two of them shattered as she flinched and pulled violently away from his touch.

"Please don't."

"Another lesson sweetheart. Let any vampire but me that close and you're finished."

She drew in a sharp breath and cradled her hand against her breasts as if he had ravaged more than just her senses.

"I'm not stupid."

"Never thought you were, pet, but you ain't got the street smarts I've got. Still, the disguise was a good idea. It doesn't look so bad on you either. Now - what've you got to tell me?"

Willow sighed and dropped despondently onto one of the sagging leather settees, forgetting what she was wearing for a moment as she tried, unsuccessfully, to curl her feet up under her.

"Not much at all. The stuff we're inputting is pretty meaningless in isolation and I haven't been able to get anywhere with the mainframe yet. We're closely supervised and the security on the system is some if the best I've ever come across."

"Can't you just..." Spike wiggled his fingers "...you know?"

"It doesn't work like that...at least I don't think it does. I'm afraid it's just going to take a bit of time to find my way around it."

"How much time?"

Willow's brow furrowed in thought, "It's hard to say. If I can punch through the firewall I can work on it from home as well and that'll help."

"Could they trace you?"

"Maybe, it depends on how good they are."

"They're likely to be very good. Still, I guess you're less likely to get caught that way than messing around on their time. Just don't give them my address if they come a-calling."

"How about you? Have you found out why they've got vampires on the staff?"

He gave her a potted history of what he knew. Enough to keep that smart little brain of hers satisfied, but not enough to let her know must how far onto the inside track he really was. Nevertheless, what he could tell her had her leaping to her feet.

"Immortality? But that's...that's impossible."

"Think they'd invest this much if it was impossible? They must think there's a good chance that they can use what the Initiative found to create some sort of drug or something. My guess is that they've heard about Adam and the 314 Project. If Walsh could create a new form of life then who's to say what's impossible any more?"

Willow's brow furrowed even further. "But Adam was part demon and his "life" came from atomic power. This is quite different." 

"Look sweetheart, I ain't no bloody boffin. All I can tell you is that they believe it's possible."

"And if it is possible, then how do we know that it's a bad thing? Curing death - just imagine it!"

"That's just it pet, I don't have to imagine it. If there's even the slightest chance they can succeed then we'd all better be worried. D'you think that a company that would hire someone like me is going to be doin' this for the greater good? The only reasons you humans are running this show is that demons don't have any imagination. We can't change, we can't invent and we can't create. Yeah, sure there's the odd one who wants to rule the world, but they all try the same old thing - maim, slaughter, destroy. I don't know about you, but the idea of a human with a demon's life span bloody terrifies me - particularly the sort of human that'd be involved with this bunch. I've heard what the Mayor did here. That was just one man and you couldn't destroy him 'till he gave up his humanity. If we don't stop this now the whole bloody lot of us are going to be slaves of the new master race."

His vehemence startled Willow. Hell, it even startled him. He'd never really put it all together like that before - he'd been to busy concentrating on what he could get out of it to even notice the possible ramifications of what Reculance were up to. Now he realised that it scared the shit out of him. 

Looking at the girl he saw that she was even paler than usual and trying hard not to shake. Pushing his on concerns to the back of his mind he took a step towards her, reaching out to tip her chin up so she had to look into his eyes. What he saw in hers reflected his own fears and old habits nearly had him taking her into his arms the way he used to when Dru's madness retreated enough for her to feel despair. His fingers traced up her jaw and, almost absentmindedly, he stroked the pale cheeks.

Willow's voice broke through his reverie. "We can't do this on our own, it's too big. We need Buffy.... Giles...someone..."

His fingers ceased their stoking movements and wound themselves almost painfully tight into her hair, dragging her closer. "No Slayer, no Watcher. What, you think they're going to believe it if I just waltz over and say 'Hey Buddy, I've just unearthed another plot to take over the world'? Give me a break; they'd have a stake through my heart before I got through the first sentence. And how about you - what proof do you have beyond what I've told you?"

"But..."

"No buts. We're on our own for now, at least until we've got some proof to lay before them and enough information that the Slayer won't just waltz in with all guns blazing and expect to wipe them out like a bunch of bleedin' Yarbnies. Now pull yourself together and let's concentrate on what we have to do."

She took a deep breath to steady herself and pulled away from his hand, its pale fingers snagging in mahogany strands. "OK, how far are they along? How long do we have to get this proof?"

"We've got a bit of time. I haven't seen any signs of them getting ready to test it yet."

"Goddess! Who are they going to test it on?"

Spike thought rapidly for a moment. Whilst he knew that Reculance were planning on acquiring 'disposable' test subjects, he'd already decided that he didn't want to complicate matters by having Willow embarking on some sort of rescue mission when she should have been concentrating on his agenda.

"Dunno, maybe they'll ask for volunteers. Y'know - tell them they're testing for one thing and stick 'em with something else. There's plenty of people out there who'd do it for a quick buck."

"Maybe." She didn't sound convinced. "But I can't see them testing it on just anyone and letting them walk out of there."

Damn, but she was quick.

"Yeah well, if we nip it in the bud early enough we won't have to worry about them testing it on anyone, will we?"

"I suppose so...I just don't know how you think we're going to do it."

The problem was, neither did he.


	7. Chapter 7

It had been a long, hard day for Spike. Trying to do all of the jobs he'd been hired to do, keeping Nat sweet, the growing restlessness that drinking real human blood was inflicting upon him...that didn't leave many reserves with which to deal with a hysterical woman on top of everything else.

Confronted by a despairing Willow in the distinctly uncongenial surrounds of The Grotto, Spike decided needed to lighten the mood or he'd have the silly chit weeping all over him. He had enough problems already without adding soggy shoulders to the list. 

"I dunno how were going to crack this, love. I guess we'll just have to hack it. Probably for the best, all things considered, given my track record with plans."

That won him a wan smile, so he decided to throw her another bone.

"Look, there's one thing I've found out that might help us." He handed her the manila folder provided by the Suit, "It's got some details about the high-ups. There might be some clues in there you could use for cracking passwords and the like."

Willow took the folder and turned it over in her hands. "How did you get hold of this?"

Spike affected indignation to divert her away from the truth of the matter saying, "Hey, you're not he only one who's been putting in any effort around here. Do you think I've just been sitting around on my arse all day or something?" This had Willow backtracking furiously and stumbling over her words in order to apologise. Whilst it was nice to see a ruse work, he really didn't have the patience to listen to it and broke in with "Yeah, yeah, alright. Just take the folder and shut up."

Willow blinked at him, clutching the folder to her chest, and Spike couldn't help but notice how the pressure accentuated the cleavage he had not realised she possessed. Damnation, what was wrong with him? He seemed to want to shag anything that moved these days. It wasn't that he hadn't had a pretty healthy libido ever since he's been turned, but these strange flashes of desire for someone who should just have been a means to an end were completely out of character. The easiest solution would have been to take her and get it out of his system but he needed her co-operation for the moment and, although he knew that he affected her, any overtures would send her running for cover. A pity really, he could have given her quite an education.

"Spike?"

He realised that he'd been woolgathering for far too long and that Willow was becoming anxious at his silence. His own concern at the paths his mind had been following made his comeback more abrupt than it might otherwise have been.

"You still here?"

She recoiled, almost as if he had hit her, her scent sharp with dismay. Yet suddenly she seemed to pull herself together, squared her shoulders and looked him directly in the eye.

"You...you can't speak to me like that."

"No?" Despite himself, Spike felt a grin tugging at the edge of his lips. Feisty Willow reminded him, quite absurdly, of one of those tiny kittens in the Disney film. What was it? Oh yes, The Aristocats. Just like those little balls of fluff she was hissing and spitting, but ultimately she was still a cute little ginger kitten. Yeah, even though it pained him to admit it, he did have a soft spot for cute animal films.

"No. Not if you want my help...and...and stop laughing at me."

This time she even stamped her foot in counterpoint to her demand and Spike lost all control, doubling up with helpless laughter. 

"S...sorry pet, but you should just see yourself."

Willow simply stood there and stared in amazement for a moment. Then the hysteria that had grabbed Spike spiralled out to ensnare her also. In a few minutes the pair of them were consumed with laughter, seated shoulder to shoulder on the floor.

"Christ, but I needed that," gasped Spike as the storm passed.

"Yeah, me too" replied Willow as she wiped her streaming eyes on the sleeve of her suit. 

"Nothing like laughing in the face of an impending apocalypse, eh?"

She twisted round to face him. "Is that what you'd do with your last three minutes - laugh?"

"Nah, I'd think of something far more fun."

This was nothing but a throwaway line, the kind he tossed out without a thought, but suddenly the air between them was charged.

"Then I hope you're with someone more..." 

Whatever Willow was about to say was lost as Spike lent forward, closing the tiny gap between them. As kisses went, Spike was later to reflect, it was not one of his better moments. He had meant it as a tease, but as his lips lightly brushed against Willow's instincts took over and he pulled her flush against his body, deepening the kiss and seeking entrance to her mouth. For a moment Willow responded with all the passion that he could ask for, then just as suddenly she froze and pulled away from him. Scrambling to her feet, a difficult job in the unaccustomed heels, she gasped: 

"Spike! What are you doing?"

A small corner of his mind noticed that all her idiosyncrasies of speech disappeared when she moved from being flustered to being truly alarmed. 

"To tell the truth, pet, I haven't the faintest bloody idea."

He thought he saw the faintest flicker of disappointment cross her face at his response. Well, serve her right for reacting like that. If she'd thought he was going to tell her a load of bollocks about how she drove him crazy with desire she had another think coming. His strange behaviour around her was just a momentary glitch caused by this particular predicament, and if he chose to ignore the fact that every relationship he'd ever had with a woman was caused by a momentary glitch...well that was his own damn business.

"Well, um, don't do it again, I mean, not that you'd want to do it again, but it's just that, well, I, err, it's not that I didn't like it and you're really very nice looking if you like that type, which I don't, but you have tried to kill me and all my friends and anyway I don't like boys anymore, OK?"

Raking a hand through his already dishevelled hair Spike wondered how anyone who still had to breathe could manage a sentence of that length. Whilst it was always possible that the rosy tinge to her cheeks was from incipient asphyxiation rather than embarrassment, he hardly though that it was likely in this particular case. He decided to find out. 

"So, you don't like boys anymore, eh? Shall we find out how you feel about demons? All in the cause of research, of course..."

He had been right. The rosy tinge increased in intensity with every syllable and she suddenly seemed to find his feet absolutely fascinating. Fun though this might have been, Spike needed to work with the deal and so he elected to call a truce.

"Ok, ok, I'm only joking. No more funny business, I promise."

"You promise?"

"I just did, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"Right then, you'd better get off and do whatever secret squirreling you need to do and I'd better get off to work. You leave first."

Willow nodded and headed for the stairs. She paused for a moment, looking back at him.

"Spike..."

"Yeah?"

"Oh...nothing. Goodbye."

And with that she was gone. As the sound made by her heels receded into the distance, Spike settled into one of the armchairs and lit a cigarette. He gazed moodily into the fragrant smoke and wondered whether it was possible that things could get even more complicated than they already were. With his current run of luck, the odds were that they would.


	8. Chapter 8

A few evenings later, Spike was doing his rounds when one of the grunts brought him Nat's summons. The grunt seemed agitated, but given Nat's taste for the melodramatic, that didn't necessarily mean that anything serious was afoot. Nevertheless, Spike found himself metaphorically girding his loins as he walked through the featureless corridors to Nat's office. His concerns appeared to be unfounded, since Nat appeared to be in an ebullient mood.

"Good news," he said, "the programme's going well and they're ready to begin testing so we've got to start filling up the holding pens. The boys are going to be going out to round up some warm ones and I want you to go with them."

Spike shrugged, "if you want, but I'm not going to be much use. You know I can't hurt humans."

"That's why I want you there. The boys have got their orders, but there's too much potential for a feeding frenzy. You can't join 'em so you're the perfect one to put the brakes on if it looks like happening. 'Sides, I wager you'd get a kick out of stopping them from enjoying something that you can't."

Spike had to admit that Nat's assessment was dead on. He was damned if he would stand back and let the others have the fun he'd been denied for so long.

"Any specifications?"

"Yeah plenty, that's going to be the challenge." Nat picked up a sheaf of papers "They want a wide range of types, young, old, male, female, black, white - you get my drift. They've got to be people who can disappear without too much of a fuss being made, but they need to be healthy, so you can't just go around picking up the deadbeats and junkies. Don't take too many from one part of town either - this place may make looking the other way into an art form but you can press your luck too far."

Spike had long held his own views on what he termed the "Sunnyhell Effect". The fact that the residents of the town seemed totally oblivious to the bizarre things going on under their noses was enough to pique his more than usually lively curiosity. His favourite theory was that the Hellmouth under the town was protecting itself. If it made the place attractive to humans and dulled their sense of perception that meant that there was plenty of fodder for demon types. Plenty of demons equalled plenty of minions for whatever came out when the gate was opened. That way everyone won - except for the fodder, of course.

Bringing his mind back to the subject at hand, Spike leafed through the papers.

"They don't like to make things too easy for us, do they?"

"Come on," said Nat "You used to be Master of this place once upon a time. You had to deal with this sort of thing on a daily basis."

Spike grimaced, "Yeah, but that was small regular kills, I wasn't managing anything like this kind of volume all at once."

Nat just shrugged, "this is the way it has to be. You've got until the weekend to put the details together. Tests start on Monday."

Spike took this as his dismissal and started for the door but before he could reach it Nat's voice stopped him.

"Oh, and Spike...get this right and there'll be a nice little bonus in it for you."

Spike didn't need to turn his head to know that Nat was smirking. He knew the other well enough to know that it wasn't money he was talking about and, broad though Spike's taste may have been, he wasn't entirely sure whether whatever the "bonus" was would be entirely to his taste. He paused and then turned slowly and replied in carefully neutral tones:

"Sounds great - what you got in mind?"

Nat's smirk grew broader. "Shall we say it's a little something to help you relax. I couldn't but notice you've been a bit tense of late and it seems to me that it's well past time you got your end away. "

"Yeah, it's been a while, but then I'm hardly Mr Popular on the demon circuit and a human's no good to me unless she's willing."

"You make sure to operation goes well and we'll make sure she's willing."

Nat winked and turned back to the papers on his desk as Spike left the room, mulling over the offer. He didn't like the idea of Nat having to provide his "entertainment". For all that he accepted his limitations, the idea that he couldn't pull a bird for himself pissed the hell out of him. Still, at the very least it might take his mind off of Willow, where it had been resting far too often of late for his comfort. Plus, if whoever it was was sufficiently drugged up he could find out if the chip would prevent him from biting a willing victim. Despite carrying it within his brain for nearly a year now he still had no real idea of how it worked. There was always a chance that it mightn't go off if his motives were something other than purely violence. Anyhow, the question was moot, there was no way he wasn't going to earn the bonus and no way that he could turn it down without seeming suspicious. 

Of course, the worst-case scenario was that if he didn't appear to be sufficiently grateful Nat would take it upon himself to be the entertainment rather than simply providing it. It wasn't that he was particularly averse to that kind if thing, Angelus having provided him with an extensive education in that respect, but he knew of Nat's taste. He was already chafing against the dominance inherent in the pseudo-Sire status that Nat had assumed with respect to their relationship and being on the receiving end of Nat's recreational attentions would be one step too far. If it happened he didn't think he'd just be able to close his eyes and think of England, which could lead all sorts of fireworks of the non-sexual kind.

Still, there was no sense in expecting the worst because, whatever you expected, fate had a habit of topping it. Putting these thoughts behind him he headed for the crypt to make his plans for the operation.


	9. Chapter 9

That Saturday night Spike was at the Bronze, along with a few handpicked assistants. More were scattered around Sunnydale's less salubrious areas - the docks, the bus station - where waifs and strays could be easily acquired. But these places would not be enough to satisfy his orders so they needed to hit the more sensitive areas as well if they were going to meet the quota and keep the snatches scattered around the town. Places like the Bronze were packed with healthy young bodies, but although it was easy enough to pick off the odd unwary teenager with a bit of sweet-talking during the slow numbers, they weren't safe for bulk purchase. Discretion was essential - that was why Spike and his most trusted boys were there rather than some of the more excitable types. He'd also chosen the better looking, ones for obvious reasons, plus most of the females from the base. Nat unfortunately hung on to the prejudices of one sired in the eighteenth century when it came to hiring staff which meant that nice pieces of tail were hard to come by - not a bad thing when it came to keeping order, but a distinct disadvantage on this occasion.

Other groups were out and about in the graveyards. Their function was to keep the Slayer otherwise occupied and Spike had taken the opportunity to weed the ranks by assigning the least able and the most annoying to this detail. A few dustings would keep her happy - and he wanted her happy, for the time being at least.

As he stared down at the mass of gyrating bodies from his vantage point on the balcony he reflected that it had been a productive few days, even if you discounted the fact that he'd arranged this little press gang at minimal notice. He'd met with Willow again and, not only had she been able to break into the Reculance ITC system using the new info, but he'd also been able to get through the entire encounter without laying his hands (or any other part of his anatomy) on her. He hadn't told her about tonight's operation, but judging by her enthusiasm, he was confident that her new discoveries would be sufficiently engrossing as to keep her off of the streets.

He'd also had a brief visit from the Suit, who seemed pleased with his progress - though it was difficult to tell what that one, his little game of the other night notwithstanding. He'd agreed that once decryption was underway Willow would transfer the information she retrieved direct to the Suit's company but, of course, as soon as they hit paydirt he'd be looking to squirrel away enough data that the Suit couldn't just off the pair of them once they were finished.

Yeah, everything was going as well as it could. Now all he had to do was to get through tonight without fucking things up, which was easier said than done. He'd done his best on short notice, but the requirements were demanding and the boys had no personal loyalty either to him or to Nat. Nevertheless, they were moving into action here - he'd seen at least three couples headed for the alley behind the nightclub, where the victims would have an experience they quite different from the one that they had been expecting. 

Finishing his beer Spike decided to check up on the other groups, content that things were well in hand at this location at any rate. As he crossed the floor he spotted a couple of familiar faces in the crowd - Xander and girlfriend. Willow would make sure that he'd be in a world of pain if those two got scooped up. He thought about putting out the word to leave them alone, but he didn't want anyone to wonder why he was so interested in them. Still, they were in limited danger if they stayed together and Anya had some common sense even if Xander didn't. Leaving the pair's fate to whichever God they might believe in, Spike strode out into the night.

He decided to do a circuit of the different snatch zones around the town and, if his path took him past the Rosenburg house, well, that was just a wise precaution. He had no intention of talking to Willow, of course, but it seemed that all of the Gods were engaged in looking after Xander and Anya, for as he rounded the corner he saw her sitting alone on the veranda looking for all the world as if she had a "come and get me" sign hanging around her neck. This was not good...not good at all. Not with all the vampires on the prowl tonight. Caught by sudden indecision Spike remained motionless. Did he go and tell her to get inside, thus having to explain himself and risking someone seeing them together to boot, or did he walk on and taking the chance that she might be abducted by one of the roaming gangs? As he stood there, Willow looked up and straight in the direction of the corner where he stood, though it was impossible that she should actually be able to see him with the human eyesight. It seemed then that his body was going to make his mind up for him as, almost involuntarily, he gathered himself to move towards her even if it meant complications he didn't need. 

Just as he went to take his first step, however, a hand landed heavily on his shoulder. The hand belonged to Nat and Spike cursed himself for becoming so intent upon Willow that he had not heard its owner coming up behind him. This could mean really deep shit. However Nat's comment, when it came, was amused rather than accusing.

"Planning on doing a bit of abducting for yourself tonight?" 

Spike continued to watch Willow for a while and then said, "You wouldn't deprive a fellow of a spot of window shopping, would you mate?"

Nat moved alongside him, likewise focusing his gaze on the blithely unsuspecting redhead. "Well, she's a pretty piece, but not worth wasting as a test subject."

Spike struggled to retain his composure and remarked in what he hoped was the most casual of voices, "You know her?"

Removing his gaze from Willow, Nat turned to Spike saying, "Yeah, she's one of ours, one of the students working on the data side. Her supervisor says she might have a bright future with the Company if only she'd stop pretending she knows less than she does."

Crap. He should have known that Willow wasn't actress enough to pull off the ingénue as far as computers were concerned. He'd have thought the charade through a bit better, but he'd been pushed for time and now all he could do was play along.

"Why would she want to do that?"

"Oh you know these computer types. They can't resist poking and prying around. She probably thought she'd better keep her petty law-breaking side to herself if she was going to keep the job." Turning his head, he smirked at Spike, "little does she know, eh?"

It seemed like everyone had the future planned for Willow, himself included. 

The grin on his face was not entirely false as he said, "I'll spread the word to leave her alone, then."

Nat nodded. "Yeah, do that." 

At that Spike decided to take advantage of the opportunity to beat a hasty retreat before he had any more chances to give himself away. 

"I'd best get going."

Nat however had other things in mind. "No hurry" he said, "No-one's stupid enough to try anything with her while we're here. I'm interested to hear how things are going."

Spike replied a little testily, "they're going well and will stand a chance of continuing to do so if I can keep an eye on things. If you're interested, come along."


	10. Chapter 10

Things had indeed gone well on the evening of the grand snatch. Nat had accompanied Spike on the rest of his rounds and found that, not only had the quotas been filled, but that no one seemed to be any the wiser. That included the Slayer, who had encountered and dusted a few of the strategically placed minions during the evening but did not seem to have put two and two together to realise that it was part of a bigger scheme. It was, therefore, with renewed confidence that Spike returned to the complex the next night.

As soon has he arrived he had word that Nat wanted to see him. When he turned up at the other vampire's office, however, all he had found was a large envelope with the words "Bonus" on the front. When Spike opened the envelope he found a key inside and the address of a flat in one of the more exclusive areas of the town. Figuring that he was not expected on duty that evening, Spike headed on out.

Arriving at the flat, Spike let himself in. The flat was well appointed and luxurious. The hall and lounge were empty, as was the kitchen - although, upon checking, the refrigerator was well stocked with not only bags of blood lifted from the local hospital but also bottles of champagne. Spike took a bag of blood and bit into it greedily. Once it was drained he discarded the wrapper and then tucked a bottle of Bolly under his arm before setting off to investigate the rest of the rooms.

The flat was spacious, with multiple rooms exiting off a secondary internal hallway. The first few doors he tried led to rooms that were as empty as those that he had left behind him. Then he reached the door to the master bedroom. On the door was a note in Nat's handwriting - "You like her and she's willing. Have fun, but don't damage the goods!"

He opened the door. The room was large and luxurious, if you liked 1990's corporate decoration, but it was not this that drew Spike's eyes. In the middle of the room was a king-sized bed and upon it, looking very small and very naked, was Willow. She was roped to the headboard, but from what he could see she seemed to feel no discomfort or fear. Her unfocussed eyes reflected nothing of the panic and embarrassment she should have been experiencing.

Damnation - if this didn't put him in one hell of a quandary. If it had been anyone else lying before him, he would have been in there before you could say, "Bob's your Uncle", but this was Willow and it complicated matters to an almost unbelievable extent. Putting the unopened bottle of Champagne upon the nearest surface, he walked slowly to the bed and sat down on the edge. He reached out and touched Willow's cheek. Finally she reacted, turning her head and smiling weakly at him.

He spoke her name, "Willow?"

There was no recognition in her eyes. He tried again:

"Willow? It's Spike, do you know me?"

Again, there was no recognition, but this time Willow closed her eyes contentedly and rubbed her cheek against his hand. She began writhing and pulling on the ropes that bound her, her breath coming in shallow bursts. Definitely drugged, and with more than just a sedative if Willow's reaction was anything to go by. He wondered what else Reculance were cooking up in their labs and whether Nat was taking the opportunity to test another of their products. Given that Nat had expressed his admiration of Willow's abilities and had an interest in her future with the Company, he guessed that the drug would cause no lasting effects. He also assumed that Willow would have no recollection of the events of this evening. It was all so very tempting.

Spike realised that Willow was becoming increasingly agitated. He fought against the urge to simply take what was on offer; after all he couldn't deny that the sight before him was something that had haunted some of his more pleasurable fantasies of late. His hand left her cheek, tracing down her collarbone and over the gentle curve of her breasts. Willow whimpered, her nipples tightening under his hand. He continued his exploration of her pale white skin, the delicate rib cage, the slight swell of her stomach and, bypassing the triangle of auburn curls, on down to the tautness of her thighs. 

Willow's moans took on an edge of desperation as she moved restlessly beneath the teasing friction of his fingertips.

"Please, oh please..."

Her body arched up, seeking his touch in a place as yet unexplored. His hand hovered over her as once more he tried to draw a flicker of recognition.

"Willow, Willow..."

Her eyes remained closed, as if she was lost in some inner fantasy. Spike cursed the name of every god he had ever known. It had been so very long since he'd had a woman and he wanted this so very much, but this wasn't just some faceless slapper - this was Willow, a woman who he had come to like and respect over the past few weeks. A little voice still whispered in his ear, "she'll never know"...but he would know. When he took her, and he was going to take her, he wanted her to know whom it was that was doing it and he wanted her to want him too. It wasn't that he had finer feelings, he was a demon so he wouldn't know one of those if it fell on him, but he had this cursed habit of getting all possessive over the women in his life. That was Angelus' fault, along with his need to prove himself all the time. Sadly, knowing you were acting irrationally didn't help you deal with a situation like this, particularly when you hadn't had a shag since Harmony.

So, however stupid it might seem, he wasn't going to take advantage of the situation. But he couldn't leave her like this. Whatever it was that Nat had doped her with, it seemed that there was an obvious way to assuage the fire that it had ignited. Since he wasn't prepared to do that at present, there was only one alternative. Bracing himself, he balled his fist and struck her hard. The pain ricocheted through is brain like a freight train and he cradled his head in his hands as he tried to ride it out. 

When his sight returned he saw that Willow was now unconscious and limp against her bonds. Picking up the coverlet from the end of the bed, he threw it over her naked form and staggered to a chair in the corner of the room. Popping open the bottle of champagne, he decided to get as pissed as he possibly could.


	11. Chapter 11

Many hours, and enough champagne to launch several luxury liners later, Spike was roused from his drunken stupor by faint stirrings from beneath the bedclothes as Willow returned to consciousness. He lurched unsteadily from the chair and weaved his way to the bed, collapsing upon the corner and trying to will the world back into focus. 

He briefly considered untying her, but decided against it. He had no idea how she'd react and he didn't want her, or him, to do anything stupid.

"Willow?"

She opened her eyes. They were still clouded by the after-effects of the drug, but there was recognition in them this time. She smiled groggily, trying to turn towards him.

"Hey, Spike. What'ya doin' in my bedroom 'n why can't I move?"

Long years of practice with Dru had instilled automatic reactions for this sort of situation that even the shitload of alcohol he had downed couldn't dull. He had always been the one left to deal with her after Angelus had been in a particularly playful mood and, love her though he might, at those times part of him had dreaded what he would see when she opened her eyes. 

He brushed Willow's hair from her eyes and spoke in a gentle, almost hypnotic voice never taking his eyes from hers. 

"Hey, Pet. Nothing to worry about, Spike's here."

But Willow was not Drusilla and the brief moment of calm was shattered as she suddenly became aware of her predicament and began to struggle against her bonds.

"Spiiike!"

"Shhh..." He reached out as if to calm her, but like a spooked horse she flinched a way from his touch. Abandoning his attempt to calm her, he embraced reason rather than sentiment.

"Willow - It's. All. Right - you're safe."

This approach seemed to work better and she glared up at him, emerald eyes blazing with anger rather than the hysteria he had been dreading.

"Untie me now!"

"OK, OK."

He fumbled with the knots, clumsy fingers failing to find purchase on the silky fibres. At last he succeeded and she wrenched herself away from her bindings. If Spike, whose head was now beginning to pound, expected things to calm down he was sadly mistaken for, as Willow sat up, the coverlet fell to her waist and she realised for the first time that she was stark naked beneath the covers. Clutching the fabric in her fists she dragged it up to her throat, covering the creamy flesh from sight before his alcohol sodden body had a chance to react. 

He stood up and moved away from the bed to give her a bit of space. She glared suspiciously at him but made no attempt to bolt, possibly because of her present state of undress.

"I didn't have anything to do with this."

If anything, the look of suspicion on her face intensified. "I...I wake up tied up and naked and the only person in the room is you. I'm supposed to believe that you had nothing to do with it?"

"It's the truth."

"Ha!!"

He made a sweeping gesture with his hand, taking in the luxurious surroundings."If you recall, this isn't my usual style. When it comes to abducting females I'm more of a dank cellar kind of guy." 

Willow's brow furrowed as she thought that one over. "OK - assuming I believe you, and I haven't said I do, then who was it and why?"

Spike inwardly sighed. No matter how he explained this, she wasn't going to like it. "You were a reward."

"A what!"

"A reward for a good job well done. I knew I was getting one, but I didn't know it would be you."

"I don't understand."

He'd been hoping that he wouldn't have to tell her about the press gang, but it seemed that there was no option.

"Look, I oversaw the round-up of the test subjects the other night. It went well and Nat promised me a reward, something soft and warm that wouldn't put up a fight. You were it. Somehow they managed to get one of their drugs into you, one that would make you willing and forgetful. When I couldn't get through to you I knocked you out and spent the night in the armchair."

Willow's eyes widened. "Goddess! I was working late. The Supervisor called me in to tell me what a good job I was doing and how they'd like to offer me a job once I'd finished College. He gave me a cup of coffee and that's the last thing I remember. But why me?"

Spike grimaced. "I took a stroll past your place that night to check you were OK and Nat caught me at it. I had to pretend to fancy you."

Most women would have cavilled at the suggestion that a man had to pretend to fancy them, but Willow simply blushed and let it pass in favour of more important matters. "What's going to happen to me now?"

Shrugging his shoulders Spike replied "Nothing much. I was told not to mark you so I guess you're supposed to wake up somewhere none the wiser. My guess would be the Infirmary."

"And how do I get there?"

"I suppose they'll come and get...oh, crap." Understanding kicked in as Spike realised belatedly that someone would be along shortly to transport Willow home. "Knocking you out instead of shagging you senseless must have altered the time it takes for the drug to wear off. You're not supposed to be yourself yet." 

As if summoned by his fears, he heard footsteps on the outer stairs. Quickly he began to tear off his clothes and hurl them haphazardly to the floor. Willow looked on, with eyes like saucers. Despite the danger, a small part of him noted smugly that she didn't look away as he stripped.

"They're coming to get you. So we've got to make this look convincing. Lie down and make like you've passed out with exhaustion." He ripped back the bedding and crawled in, winding himself around her rigid form.

"Relax for Christ's sake, or we'll never pull this off." 

Her response was unexpected. "B...but, you're so c...cold."

He grinned wryly "Yeah, being a corpse'll do that to you. Still, I'm warming up."

Many a true word was spoken in jest. Despite the copious amount of alcohol he had imbibed earlier, his body was reacting to her closeness in more than one way - and he was too closely pressed against her for his reaction to be missed. Fortunately for all concerned, the sound of the key in the lock was enough to stifle further conversation. Willow relaxed limply into his embrace as he turned his face into her hair and closed his eyes in preparation for the new arrivals.


	12. Chapter 12

Spike hoped that the state of the room was sufficient to give the impression that it had been witness to a night of wild debauchery. Keeping his eyes firmly shut, he performed a quick mental checklist: scattered clothes, empty bottles, rumpled bedding and a naked couple tightly entwined within it - so far so good. Of course, had he been fully functional, there would have a good deal of blood soaked into the silk of the sheets, but his condition had been sufficiently publicised by Nat's snide tongue that the absence would not be remarked upon. He only hoped that the absence of other telltale traces on the bed linen would be overlooked.

He had left the door to the bedroom open and he tracked the sound of two sets of footsteps across the room and over to his side of the bed. A hand touched his bare shoulder and he jack-knifed up, lashing out with his fists. There was no pain, confirming that at least one of the pair wasn't human.

"Easy, buddy. We're just here to collect the baggage."

Spike focused on the two. As he had expected they were vampires, not his boys but a couple from Nat's personal staff. One was rubbing his jaw, a testament to the fact that his blow had landed true. He forced a grin onto his face, "Just don't like being snuck up on. Mind you, it doesn't happen that often, so make the most of the experience."

The pair laughed and his victim responded, "Yeah, well, I guess it was justified. She's a pretty little piece for a human, wouldn't mind a bit of that myself."

Spike couldn't afford for anyone to try to have a bit of fun with Willow in her supposedly unconscious state. Either she'd fight back using her magic and the skills the Slayer had taught her, or she'd call out for him. Either way the gaff would be blown. He'd have to do something about it, even though he could imagine what that bit of additional gossip would do to his growing reputation for eccentricity when it got round. Nevertheless, it seemed to be worth it.

"She is, and a good lay too. I might decide to plough that furrow again and wouldn't take kindly to anyone sowing his oats on my land, if you get my drift."

The two exchanged grins and the undamaged half of the pair quipped, "It's pretty hard to miss, given that you were obviously about to do another bit of sowing when we barged in." 

The other chimed in, "Yeah, hard being the operative word," and they both laughed.

Spike glanced down at his all too obvious erection and shrugged ruefully. "What can I say? It's been a while since this particular Energiser Bunny got the chance for a bit of fun. Now I've broken her in nicely I don't want her picking up any bad habits, so you can just keep your grubby mitts to yourself."

"Heard and understood. We'll just take her back and tuck her up safe and sound." 

Spike nodded and busied himself with his clothes as one of the pair picked Willow up out of the sheets. She moaned gently, curling sensuously into his arms, and Spike had to admire the way she played her role despite the embarrassment and fear that she must be feeling. He wasn't sure how long she could keep it up and, in order to keep their attention on him rather than her, he asked, "Just wondering, how do you intend to get a naked woman out of here without attracting attention?"

"Same way we got her in. There's a handy underground car park for loading and unloading and tinted windows do the rest. The whole block belongs to the Company and some of the key staff have got apartments here. You do well and perhaps they'll move you in as well."

"Yeah, that'd be peachy." Spike filed the nugget of information away for further reference. Rauk wouldn't live here, but it was certainly possible that Nat did. 

"We'll take her straight back to HQ where she'll have a nice refreshing nap. They'll probably tell her she's been overworking and give her a couple of days off to recover. Reckon she'll need it, then?"

Spike grinned, "Might take more than a couple of days."

"Need a lift back?"

Spike accepted the offer, giving as it did the opportunity to keep an eye on Willow, and followed the pair out of the flat and down to the basement car park where a sleek, black car with the promised tinted windows was waiting. Willow was slung onto the back seat like the piece of meat that his companions obviously regarded her as. 

Taking the front passenger seat, Spike recalled that it wasn't such a long time ago that he had regarded Willow in the same light and he wondered how he had allowed her to become something more than a simple tool to him. The fact that he wanted a piece of her wasn't what bothered him - after all, he wouldn't be the first vampire that liked to play with his food - and it wasn't that he was getting all protective, because that pretty much happened with every half-way intelligent female he knew if he was close enough to them for a while. What really bothered him was that he was getting to like her and there didn't seem to be a damn thing he could do about it. The thought was not a particularly comforting one and, as such things do, it stayed with him while he gazed morosely at the lights of Sunnydale as the car wove its way back through the darkened streets.

When he got back to the crypt he got blind drunk for the second time that day.


	13. Chapter 13

Spike had been given the following day off but when he next returned to work his head and body were still throbbing, the first because of the alcohol he had taken and the second because of the woman he had not. As it turned out things were not destined to get any better. The moment he arrived he was summoned to Nat's office and this time its owner was not only present, but looking distinctly menacing - as were the group of thugs who were sharing the room with him. The hairs on the back of his neck rose when one of them detached himself from the group and stood between Spike and the only door.

"Well, if it isn't the great lover himself."

Nat's tone dripped with sarcasm and the pack of minions behind him snickered unpleasantly.

Playing for time, Spike simply shrugged his shoulders insouciantly, saying: "One does one's best."

Nat's grin grew more predatory and he reached for the remote control sitting on his desk. "One's best? Hardly. When I was looking for a bit of video entertainment last night I was expecting something quite different from this." 

He pressed a button and the TV screen across the room came alive with the image of Spike sitting on a bed beside the form of a sensuously writhing Willow. He watched as the scene unfolded and saw himself draw back his fist to launch a devastating blow to her head, the two of them simultaneously crumpling in pain at the moment of impact.

"If it had just been that, I might have thought you were afraid that you couldn't get it up. But this tells rather a different story."

Nat hit the fast forward button and the tape moved inexorably on through the hours Spike had spent nursing a succession of bottles and then to the conversation that he had shared with Willow just before they had been so rudely interrupted.

"Seems the pair of you know each other rather better than I'd thought. It's not healthy, you know, fraternising with the living. You can pick up all sorts of nasty things from them - like death, of the permanent kind. Care to explain what's going on before I have you torn to pieces?"

It was either him or Willow and, thwarted lust or no, Spike knew damn well whose skin it was that he was going to save. 

He rounded on Nat. "I'm just doing the job you should've been doing. If this place could be bothered to do its security checks properly you'd know that she's a friend of the Slayer's. That lot don't do anything by accident so I decided to find out what she's doing here. That's why you caught me outside her house the other night."

Nat looked sceptical. "If she's a friend of the Slayer's why's she cozying up to you instead of putting a stake through your misbegotten heart?"

"Look, things ain't been easy this past year and when the chips were down I did some things I'm not proud of just to make sure I survived. But on this occasion it's paid off. The bint trusts me and I can use it to our advantage."

"So, what's she doing here?"

"The Slayer's boyfriend used to be part of this place. He heard about the redevelopment and they got curious, particularly when word of hirings got round on the demon circuit. The pair of them were too well known to infiltrate, so they got Rosenberg to do it for them. She's their tame computer whiz - but then you know about her skill in that area already."

Nat nodded "Yeah, part of the parent organisation clocked her when she was back in high school, her and some boy name of Osborne - but he seems to have done a vanishing trick. Her name came up with flashing lights when we ran it through the checks, but there wasn't anything about her other activities. Not really surprising in a town like this... all sorts of things fall through the cracks for some reason."

Spike had to agree with that one. There was a lot they'd missed about Willow, and wolf-boy too for that matter, which was fortunate for him. "Yeah, very little happens by chance in this town and you'd do well to remember it. Anyway, now that you know about the girl, what're you going to do?" 

Nat deliberated for a moment. "If the Slayer knows about the place, then we don't want to sic her on us by killing her girl. She's better left alive and used as a source of misinformation. You say she trusts you so I'll leave it up to you to handle it."

Spike smiled. He'd deliberately avoided leading Nat to this conclusion to make sure that he thought it was his own idea. He'd also needed to make sure that Nat had no idea of the importance of Willow's continued survival. It had been a gamble, but it couldn't have worked out better - having Nat sanction his contact with Willow would make life a great deal easier.

"I'll be like her best buddy."

But Nat hadn't finished "Don't think this means I'm happy about what you've been up to and you'd better make damned sure I'm kept in the loop in future. I'm all for independent thinking in my staff but I wouldn't like any...misunderstandings to arise."

Spike tried to look suitably abashed. "You can trust me."

"I'd better be able to."

Spike held Nat's gaze for a long moment before nodding sharply. At that Nat gestured for the goons to leave and sank down into the chair behind his desk. Spike waited until the last had left and closed the door behind him before asking, "you're not going to report me then?"

Nat shrugged "Nah, so long as you keep your nose clean in future I won't need to involve anyone else. Besides, Rauk doesn't like to be bothered by day-to-day stuff like this, he's got bigger things on his mind." 

Spike was relieved and let it show on his face. "It's good that he trusts you like that. The pair of you must be very close."

Nat grinned ruefully, gesturing to the decanter of brandy on the sideboard. "D'you fancy a drink?" 

Spike nodded and poured a generous measure for them both into the tulip shaped glasses. Handing one to Nat held his own to his nose, swirling the glass and inhaling the complex aroma.

"Richard Hennessy? So, are we going to take Talleyrand's advice and settle down and discuss its virtues?"

Nat smiled. "For all your wide-boy act, you've not lost your nose or your academic pretensions," he paused for a moment, "or your infallible instinct for trouble."

Spike shrugged "All part of my charm." He took the seat on the other side of the desk and eyed Nat with interest. "You don't normally break out the good stuff for one of the hired help. Got something on your mind?"

Nat sighed. "More of a matter of what, or rather who, Rauk has got on his. Someone of the female persuasion who's interfering more than she ought."

"That's the trouble with women, always more trouble than they're worth," Spike agreed.

Nat raised his glass to Spike "I'll drink to that."

"So, what's the problem?"

"Things used to be right cushy here. We had a nice little niche, something to work for. Then this bird came along and suddenly Rauk's listening to her instead of following his own muse. I don't like it and I certainly don't like having to pass on some of his latest decisions to the boys. It's strange, I'd never have taken him for a lap-dog."

"Comes to us all mate." Spike said, ruefully.

After taking another sip of Cognac and rolling it around his mouth, Nat replied, "yeah, I know. Just hope it doesn't screw up a good thing."

Spike decided it was time for his most sincere of faces. "Well, you know I've got your back if the shit hits the proverbial."

"Heh - makes me all warm inside, that does."

The pair laughed, but then Nat's expression sobered. "Spike, we go back a long way. I know you're a tricky bastard, but the way things are going at the moment I think you're the closest thing I've got to someone I can trust." 

Spike swallowed the last of his drink. "Better the devil you know, eh? Need me for anything in particular?"

"Nah, just keep your eyes peeled, that's all, I'll let you know if anything comes up." He paused, "and Spike, don't make me regret trusting you - you won't enjoy the results."

Spike made as if to leave and then turned back again as if something had just occurred to him. 

"By the way, assuming this all pans out the way we want, I'd take it as a favour if Rosenburg was part of my final payoff. There's a lot of scores I need to settle with the Slayer and once the chip is history there'll be all sorts of things I can do to the chit that'd drive her spare, not to mention being a whole heap of fun."

The lightening of the atmosphere was almost perceptible and Nat grinned at him indulgently, "That's my boy. There've been times recently I thought you were going soft on me, but I should have known better. I know the Company has it's eye on her, but I'll see what I can do to make sure the girl's yours to do with as you will...so long as you make it more entertaining than the last time."

Spike joined in with Nat's laughter. "It'll be my pleasure..."


	14. Chapter 14

The next few days passed unexceptionally. Spike went about his duties as usual, which now included patrolling the rapid turnover of residents in the bulging holding cells. 

Now that he seemed to have Nat's full trust, he was also sent on a few personal forays for special subjects for testing. Sometimes he could do this alone, when the targets were ones that he could handle. Why the Company wanted demons he didn't know, but he was happy to oblige. Other times he was working with a few hand picked boys, which was pleasantly reminiscent of the days when he had been cock of the walk in Sunnydale. Besides, having largesse to dispense gave him the opportunity to build up some personal allegiances amongst his staff, which would be helpful if the present tension reached breaking point.

And the atmosphere was tense; there was no mistaking it, despite the fact that the word was that progress on the project was good. The boffins were working at full stretch, as were the techies if Willow's long hours were anything to go by. Plus the easygoing camaraderie that had typified the operation seemed to be evaporating. Spike rarely saw Nat, and when he did the older vampire seemed preoccupied with his own troubles. Of Rauk there was nothing to be seen, which contrasted to the early days of Spikes tenure when he had often been sighted loping around the corridors with a cherubic smile for all and sundry.

Spike's own life was a great deal simpler now that Nat knew about Willow. He still met her in the less than salubrious surroundings of the semi-derelict Grotto, because changing would necessitate revealing the reasons why, but Spike no longer needed to worry about shaking off a tail when he went about his business on the Campus. The tension in the air was having its effect upon Willow as well, and Spike was having to spend more and more of their limited time together in reassuring her that things really were going to plan.

Curiously, since the unfortunate "bonus" incident, Willow had become more rather than less comfortable in Spike's company, perhaps believing that because he hadn't taken advantage of her on that occasion he was unlikely to try anything in less tempting circumstances. He didn't disabuse her of this belief and was surprised how much pleasure he derived from their comfortable rapport. When she was particularly tense he had taken to simply holding her and stroking her hair, whilst murmuring nonsensical things under his breath. This was another trick he had learnt from his days with Drusilla. It had always had a soothing effect on him as well as her, but he had never expected it to work that way with someone who wasn't Dru. Yet somehow when Willow lay so trustingly in his arms, with the hypnotic beat of her heart playing counterpoint to her breathing, he felt at peace in a way that he hadn't for too long.

Nat was quite right; he was getting softer by the day and would have to do something about it sooner or later. But for now the tension of work, plus the fact that he was playing so many sides against the middle that even he was beginning to lose track, meant that it was comforting to be able to simply slip back into the familiar role of protector. If it had the unexpected side effect of strengthening Willow's resolve, then all the better for him.

All too predictably, this brief time was turned out to be the calm before the storm. One night Spike checked in as usual, only to find that the non-human staff had been summoned en masse to a meeting, ostensibly to receive good news. Spike had his doubts about the latter. Indeed, there was an undercurrent of suspicion running through the snippets of conversation that he picked up as they all made their way to the pit in the central hall of the facility that had been the site of the vivisection beds when the military were running the show. It was here that they had undoubtedly inserted Spike's chip and the location always triggered off feelings of unease in him - feelings that were magnified that evening.

As they waited in untidy ranks, Rauk suddenly appeared on the edge of the pit above him, flanked by Nat and an unknown female. Spike eyed her up and down. She was a handsome piece and Spike was appreciative of the view from below which allowed him to see straight up her brief skirt. Not pretty. No, despite the soft brown hair that fell to her shoulders and the finely chiselled features, there was no sweetness or vulnerability about this one. The arrogance of her bearing reminded him of someone, though he was damned if he could remember who.

As he worried at the elusive memory, Rauk stepped forward and spoke, his voice booming out to fill the space, despite the lack of any apparent source of amplification. 

"Thank you all for attending at such short notice. I've brought you here to give you some important news about our little endeavour. The project is a triumph - we have conquered death!"

There was a muted cheer from the assembled throng of vampires.

"The Company and I are appreciative of your important role in making this possible. But our work is not yet at an end, and you have a far more vital role to play in ensuring the success of the next stage...the antidote!"

The sound of confused muttering rose from the crowd around Spike, but to him it made perfect sense. You didn't risk giving immortality to the world's most dangerous men unless you had a method of taking it away again. He looked up and saw the same realisation dawning on Nat's face, a look that turned apprehensive when he, like Spike, saw and noted the supercilious smirk on the woman's face.

Smiling beatifically, Rauk continued, "We're well on out way to developing the antidote, but we need to test it. We've had some very good results from the subjects who have had the original drug which is just dandy but, as I said to myself, why simply stop at those to whom you've granted immortality? Wouldn't it be fun to find out what happens on those who already have it? Just think of the opportunities that might open up."

The muttering grew louder, but the run-of-the-mill Reculance vampire hadn't been chosen for his razor-like intellect. Spike on the other hand had a fairly good idea of what was coming next and, as discretely as possible, began to inch his way towards the nearest exit. As he did, Rauk's voice continued to echo around the subterranean chamber.

"Of course, I'm going to need some immortals to test it on and that's where you come in, my faithful employees."

As he spoke the doors to the pit slammed shut with an awful finality. Upon hearing the sound Nat suddenly sprang forward, his throat fangs emerging and burying themselves deep into Rauk's jugular. The effect was not that which might have been expected. Far from weakening, Rauk simply grimaced as if at a particularly nasty mosquito bite and grasped Nat by the neck, wrenching him away from his throat. Nat's fangs ripped bloody gouges in Rauk's suntanned skin but, even as Spike watched, these began to close up and heal. Rauk retained his grip on Nat's throat and, with preternatural strength, lifted and held him over the yawning drop.

"As I said, we have conquered death. Immortality is mine."

With that he released his hold on Nat and the vampire fell into the seething mass below. Then he turned on his heel, offered the woman his arm and the two of them disappeared from Spike's sight.

The mood of the mob was nasty and they converged as one on the recumbent figure, but found themselves thwarted as Spike interposed his body between them and their prey.

"You want him, you've got to go through me first."

Fortunately, some degree of loyalty and fear still clung to his and Nat's previous positions of authority and the mob stopped in its tracks. Suddenly a random figure from the rear yelled, "The scum betrayed us, he's going to pay."

"Don't be bloody stupid," Spike spat, "we've got to stick together if we're going to get out and Nat knows more about this place and what's been going on than anyone."

For a split second Spike's words held them motionless then someone bellowed, "Fuck that! " and with a roar they surged forward once more. But, before they could reach their goal, they were dropped in their tracks as one when the metal floor became live and enough electricity passed through their undead bodies to stun them into insensibility


	15. Chapter 15

When Spike regained consciousness he initially assumed that the pounding in his head was the result of yet another alcoholic binge and that the acrid smell of smoke meant that, once again, he had passed out where the morning sun could reach him. But as memory finally returned he realised that his aches and pains were not, for once, self-inflicted.

Groaning he turned over and realised that he was, for a second time, a resident of the featureless white cell block. Spotting Nat's feebly stirring form on the other side of the cell, he realised that he was not alone. A cursory glance showed him that each of the cells on this level held two or three of the vampiric members of the complex's workforce, some of whom were also showing signs of slowly returning awareness.

He struggled slowly to his feet, wincing with pain at the burns left by the passage of the electrical current through his body, and staggered over to the Nat who was now attempting somewhat unsuccessfully to make it to a sitting position. 

"You OK mate?"

Nat opened his eyes a fraction and muttered, "been better," before slumping back onto the ground. "I feel like someone lit a firework and shoved it up my arse."

Spike grinned humourlessly before replying, "know what you mean." 

While he waited for Nat to regain his bearings, Spike paced the cell. Unfortunately, the fact that he knew how the opening mechanism worked was about as useful to him as a bicycle to a goldfish now that he was on the wrong side. Snarling impotently, he kicked the wall and swore as pain shot through him.

Behind him he could hear Nat finally lurching unsteadily to his feet observing, somewhat caustically, "that's not going to get us out of here." 

Spike rounded on Nat. "Yeah, and it doesn't even make me feel better, but you got any better ideas?"

Nat raked a trembling hand through his hair before responding and Spike reflected that if he only looked half as bad a Nat did then he must still look like shit.

"You tell me. You're the one that got out of here before."

Spike shrugged. "I was lucky, I spotted a weakness and exploited it. They were giving us spiked blood to knock us out before the tests and they didn't check whether we'd drunk it or squirted it down our trousers. Can't happen twice."

Nat considered for a moment. "I don't see why not. They've got to do something to pacify us before trying the antidote and drugged blood is as good a way as any." 

Spike shook his head, the pain making him regret it almost instantly. "Nah, why do they need to drug us when the souped up versions can handle us as easily as they did you earlier? I'm betting on brute force."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Nat fingered his throat where, despite his rapid healing abilities, the bruises from his encounter with Rauk still marked his skin. "I thought they just wanted to live forever, but he was like some sort of superman."

"So" said Spike "What did just happen back there - apart from us getting right royally screwed, of course?"

Nat hacked and spat blood onto the pristine floor. "It was that fucking bitch. I knew there was something going on but I didn't count on her moving so quickly. Ever since she's been here she's been trouble, setting the major players against each other, causing trouble in the ranks and Rauk just let her. Well, all I can say is she must be one hell of a good lay. I hope she's worth it."

"Yeah," agreed Spike, "but what does she want?"

A female voice cut in from behind him "Guess..."

Spike whirled back to the door and saw the woman standing just beyond it looking as cool and unruffled as she had done when she was watching from the edge of the pit earlier.

Spike snarled, "I don't like to play games, lady."

The woman raised her perfectly styled eyebrows "That's not what I'd heard...William."

Spike was shocked into silence. He'd made damned sure as few people as possible were familiar with that name. "You know me?"

"Know of you, know of your bloodline," she smiled acquisitively, "that's why I'm here - you're too valuable to be wasted."

"My bloodline?" 

"Drusilla, Angelus, Darla, Nest...all powerful names, all troublesome names and troublesome individuals, but none more so than Angelus." She watched Spike's face as she slowly pronounced that last name, almost seeming to savour the feeling of it in her mouth. "Angelus...Angel. You hate him so much, don't you? I could work wonders with a man who hates him that much."

"You went to all this trouble just to get me?"

She laughed. "Don't flatter yourself. You're quite inconsequential compared with what I'm really here for, but I make it a policy never to miss an opportunity when it presents itself."

Again there was that air of familiarity but, though Spike desperately wracked his brains to work out who it was, the face remained elusive. Nat's voice broke into his reverie as he came to stand behind him. "So, you gonna get us out of here then?"

"Sure." The woman's hand moved to the control panel next to the door and then paused as she reached to the small of her back, unholstering the pistol that had been concealed there. "Just a little insurance."

"That's not going to do you a lot of good lady," Nat mocked, a little unwisely given the circumstances, "you can empty the entire clip into my heart and I'll still rip your throat out."

She was as unfazed as ever. "Maybe, but a couple of shots through the eyes and into your brain should slow you down nicely."

Spike couldn't help grinning. "OK, we'll behave. Just get that door open."

Her hand touched the door's release mechanism and it began to slide open. It was at that point that Nat discovered that Spike had been economical in the truth when it came to the details of his previous escape. It was true that quick thinking had exploited a loophole in the Initiative's procedures, but Spike would never have made good his escape had he not sacrificed his companion to eternal death in order to buy those vital few seconds. As soon as the door had opened wide enough to allow the passage of a body, Spike grasped Nat's arm and catapulted him into the woman, throwing the pair of them off balance and into an untidy heap on the floor.

The sound of gunfire rent the air but Spike raced away down the corridor without a backward glance.


	16. Chapter 16

Spike was hoping to make a clean getaway. The woman didn't seem like a fool so he assumed that she would have done something about the security cameras on the cellblock before coming down to make her offer. He also assumed that Nat would be able to keep her occupied for some considerable time. In the latter case it appeared that he was mistaken, for alarm bells started sounding no more than a few of minutes after his escape from the cell. Once he heard them he knew that he needed some sort of diversion if he was going to get out of the place without being re-apprehended. It was fortunate, therefore, that his knowledge of the installation had not solely been gathered from his days as a Reculance employee, but also upon the period of time that he had been working with Adam. That meant that he knew where to find the security system over-ride controls and how to put them to good use in a situation such as this.

With as much haste as possible without attracting undue attentions, Spike followed the white corridors until he reached a familiar, if unmarked door. He slipped inside and, to his pleasure, found that the secondary control room was still there. Less fortunately, someone of the human persuasion occupied the room but he hadn't noticed Spike yet, being occupied with what appeared to be malfunctioning TV monitors. In the old days Spike would have simply snapped his neck before he had as chance to notice him, but these days he had to resort to subterfuge. 

Running his hands through his hair he pointed back at the open door and gasped, "quickly, they're everywhere."

If the man had of recognised him he'd have been stuffed, but he just looked at Spike and quickly back at the blank screens. 

"Jeez, I knew there was something wrong." 

Picking up a stun gun he made for the door, gesturing to Spike to follow him - which he did until the other had exited the room, at which point he slammed and locked the door behind him.

"Hey! What's going on?" 

Spike heard the angry exclamation from the other side as the guard realised that he'd been had, followed by muffled banging on the door. Blanking the sound out he quickly ran through the series of commands he had once memorised just in case - a series of commands that opened every door in the complex, including those in the cellblock. Then he sat back to wait for the chaos that would certainly ensue, hoping that this particular plan would serve him better than the late and unlamented one who had originally devised it. 

He couldn't tell what was happening out there because of the woman's tinkering with the cameras, but the banging faded away and was followed by the sound of rapidly retreating footsteps. He walked to the door and, pressing his ear against it, listened for the slightest sound in his vicinity. There was none. He opened the door a crack and, having assured himself that the corridor was empty, stepped outside.

Unfortunately the control room he had just left wasn't any handier for the exits than the cell block had been and Spike was aware that he had a considerable amount of enemy territory to cross before he could get out of the place. He would just have to hope that the diversion he had set up would be sufficient to cover his escape. He thought it would be, given that the majority of the guards had been among the undead. The critical question was how many of those on the other side had been given the drug. If there were enough of the pseudo-supermen around, the boys might be rounded up too quickly. It was a shame in a way that he'd had to sacrifice Nat - Adam had been right when he had identified the crucial role that a leader played in a mêlée.

Still, as he travelled the corridors the evidence he gradually came across appeared encouraging. The bodies, one recognisable as the guard he had come across earlier, certainly outnumbered the piles of dust - though the efficiency of the air conditioning system could account for that and he had no idea whether the humans would go for kill or catch.

A number of times the sounds of battle grew progressively closer and then receded as Spike made his way through the complex, though he never saw any of the actual fighting. The tiled floor changed to soft carpeting and the lighting became softer, which meant that he was near the executive suites now. That was something that didn't appeal to him much but was unavoidable unless he wanted to get caught up in the struggle.

Suddenly a door just behind him opened and he heard the hearty and faintly accented voice that had, not so long ago, been condemning him to a short and painful existence as a lab rat.

"Leaving us just when the fun is starting?"

Spike knew there was no point running. He had seen Rauk's reflexes earlier and could bet that he'd easily run him down before he'd reached the end of this corridor, let alone made it to the comparative safety of the outside world. Instead, he stopped and turned to face the owner of the voice. Rauk was, as ever, relaxed and smiling but there was something calculating in the way that he was eyeing him up.

Suddenly Spike heard footsteps behind him and whirled round as several armed men stepped round the corner of the corridor. Behind him, Rauk's voice continued.

"Your revolt was a brave effort, but my men have contained it. You didn't think that your kind were the only fighters around here? Those of your friends who are left are being escorted back to the cells even as we speak. But then, you won't be shedding any tears, will you?"

Spike turned back. "Nope."

"You're not much of a team player, are you Spike?" 

Spike spread his hands. "Not really my forté, mate."

"No, it's not. That's why I've had my eye on you ever since Nat suggested you join us...pity about Nat, he was useful."

Spike assumed that the man referred to his own decision to sacrifice Nat along with the rest of the vampires, since he presumably didn't know of the part Spike had played in Nat's apparent destruction. Playing safe, he shrugged and said nothing. 

Rauk continued, "Still, initiative like yours deserves to be rewarded," he gestured towards the door to his office, " why don't you step inside?" 

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really, no."

Spike walked past him into the office and found that he was not the only guest, for the woman was reclining on the sofa. She looked a little more dishevelled than when they had last met, but that was hardly surprising.

Rauk had followed Spike into the room and now spoke. "My dear, we have a guest. Why don't you pour him a drink? Something a bit special."

She rose to her feet and walked over to the sideboard, where an opened bottle of Krug was waiting on ice. Her gait was a little unsteady and Spike noticed that the heel on one of her court shoes was broken. Cursing quietly under her breath she kicked off first the offending shoe and then the other before pouring the golden liquid into three glasses. She handed one to each of them and then returned for her own.

Rauk smiled at the two of them "Now that the fracas is over, I thought a little celebration was in order."

The woman raised her glass to him and, with a "cheers", tossed it back. Part of Spike winced at the sight of a fine champagne being treated in such a cavalier fashion. He himself sipped the sparkling liquid, savouring the subtle flavours of dried figs and ripe quince as they burst upon his palate until Rauk told him to drink up. He complied and Rauk smiled at him like the cat that killed the canary.

"Congratulations at being the first to test the antidote, Spike. Your name will be remembered."

Spike gagged, clutching his throat with one hand and hurling his glass away with the other. It hit the edge of a table and the fine crystal shattered into a thousand pieces.

Rauk's voice continued relentlessly. "I look forward to observing the effect. The subjects who had been given the original drug lost their immortal life at the same speed that they had gained it. They literally shrivelled up in front of my eyes. We think it'll be slower with true immortals; a gradual ageing that could take hours. Do you feel anything yet?"

Spike didn't reply, instead sinking to the ground and thrusting his fingers down his throat to try and rid his body of the drug.

"That won't help, it's absorbed into the blood-stream almost immediately" said the woman as she stepped round Spike's crouching body to hand a refilled glass to Rauk.

"To you Georg."

He raised his glass to her,"to us, my dear, and to all the time in the world" and drained it in one long draught.

Suddenly Rauk screamed and dropped his glass. Clutching at the woman he cried, "what have you done?" Smiling, she shrugged off his grasping hands as if they were nothing and stepped away.

Rauk began to age before Spike's eyes. The cherubic roundness of his face seemed to shrink as his skin clung to suddenly prominent bones. He screamed again, clutching at his head with hands that seemed more skeletal by the second, and showers of golden ringlets fell unheeded to the floor. Then his knees gave way and he fell, writhing, to the floor. He seemed to be shrinking away inside his clothes as his skin and muscles withered and dried. Still he screamed - a raw mindless sound now - and his eyes rolled wildly in his oversized skull. Finally the sound died as the body folded in upon itself, skin blackening as if burned and crumbling away from startlingly white bones.

The woman laughed, drained her glass and dropped it onto the pile. Then she turned to Spike who still crouched on the carpet and said "Are you still here?"

Spike stumbled to his feet and ran for the door, but the woman had not yet had her last word:

"Remember...you can run, but you can't escape. The clock is ticking."

All he knew was that he had to get out of this madhouse and find someone that could help him while there was still time.


	17. Chapter 17

Spike ran as if the very legions of Hell pursued him. He had no idea how long he had before the drug began to slow him down and he needed to get to the one person who might be able to do something before it was too late.

When he arrived at Willow's house it was in darkness, but when he hammered loudly on the front door a light went on in the room that he had identified as Willow's bedroom. He heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs and the door opened a fraction. He had no time for games tonight. Throwing himself against it he knocked a startled Willow aside and then fell at her feet, clutching at the legs of her pyjamas.

"Willow, you've got to help - they've killed me."

He was panicking and could feel it transferring to Willow. He knew that he was handling this all wrong but he didn't have time for finesse on this occasion. Still...he took a deep, if unnecessary, breath and unclenched his fingers from the frightened girl's clothes.

"They've given me the antidote to the immortality drug. I've seen what it can do and I'm not going to end that way. I need you to stop it."

Willow stared wild-eyed at the vampire kneeling before her. "How? I mean...I..."

He didn't have time to beat around the bush, "you're the witch, dammit. There's got to be something you can do to get this out of me."

Willow shook her head, frantically. "An ordinary healing spell's not going to work on you, they're for the living. I don't know what to do."

He felt his rage flare in response to the fear that was growing in the pit of his stomach and climbed to his feet, taking her by the shoulders. "Can't you just look something up? You're supposed to be the clever one, the one with her nose in the books, the one who's been reading all those files."

Willow's panic began to recede under this onslaught and she started to fight back. "I've never come across anything about removing immortality in the Reculance files, only how to confer it. I've no idea what they gave you or how it works which means I can't find out how to cure it."

Spike couldn't let himself believe that there was nothing she could do to help him. "Well then, can't you do some sort of magic that'll tell you what's wrong with me?"

She spread her hands wide. "But you're already dead. How could anything else be wrong with you?" 

He wanted to shake her. "Just try dammit, I don't know how long I've got."

She sighed. "OK, I'll try a simple scrying spell to see if I can find anything out." Now she had settled on a task she calmed and became all business. "I need to get some supplies, you go upstairs and wait."

She headed off in the direction of the kitchen and Spike went up the stairs towards the only room with a light which he assumed, rightly as it turned out, was Willow's. She had obviously had as sleepless a night as he - the bed was still made and the computer screen glowed in the corner. He couldn't just lie and wait, instead choosing to pace restlessly around the room picking up and putting down the various nick-knacks and detritus of Willow's childhood that littered the surfaces.

At length he heard the sound of her footsteps in on the stair and Willow entered, carrying a jug of water. Putting it down on a cloth-covered table, she started rummaging in her drawers and pulled out some candles. If he had been in the mood for humour, Spike would have smiled at the fact that Willow hid her witchy paraphernalia in her undies.

She arranged the candles around the room then turned and ordered Spike to lie on the bed. "I need you to relax."

"Do I need to take anything off?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Not really, but get yourself comfortable - this might take a while."

Spike took off his coat and settled on Willow's bed, watching her as she moved around the room making her preparations. Willow returned to the table and poured the water into a shallow dish that was resting there, adding black ink and swirling it around until the water was dark. She them moved around the room lighting candles before returning to the altar.

"Air for speed, Fire to cleanse, Water to bless, Earth to manifest, Spirit to seal."

As Spike watched, she held out her cupped hands and then opened them as if allowing something to fall.

"As above, so below. This circle is sealed."

Spike saw her relax and heard her breathing become slow and rhythmical as she gazed into the cloudy water. He wasn't sure whether she was even aware of him or the room any more. He waited, for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only ten minutes or so, until he finally heard Willow take a sharp intake of breath. She held her hands out once more as if gathering something in, closed her eyes briefly and then turned to him looking perplexed.

He could feel her reluctance to speak and knew there was bad news coming. Well, he wasn't going to sit around all night waiting for her to pluck up enough courage to pronounce his doom so he snapped, "Well? What do you see?"

The confidence she had exuded earlier had completely vanished. "I can't 'see' anything."

He rose to his feet. "What do you mean, you couldn't see anything? You must have seen something."

"Only the usual things I would associate with a vampire, nothing unusual at all. If there's something there, it's camouflaged."

He couldn't follow this in his current state. "Camouflaged?"

It's so like the rest of you that it's not showing up as an imbalance," she tried to explain. "It's like I told you before, because you're dead anything deadly seems like...like it's just part of you."

"So what you're saying is I'm hoist on my own bleeding petard?" He summarised bitterly.

"I guess so." She held her hands out to him. "Spike, I tried - really I did."

"Yeah, Pet, I believe you."

"I don't want you to think that I didn't try just because you, you know, tried to kill me before, because these past few weeks have been nice. Even if you are a demon I don't want something bad to happen to you when I could have done something about it."

She looked so miserable that Spike wrapped his arms around her as if she was the one that was under a death sentence. She returned the embrace and laid her head on his shoulder.

So this was it. He'd finally been caught in a web of his own making. It'd be funny if it weren't so bloody tragic. He could feel Willow's uneven breaths fanning his neck and he stroked her hair idly, saying: "Don't fret, I've had a pretty good innings."

At this she began to sob quietly. He'd been right when he'd thought he'd end up with soggy shoulders before this was over. Spike's mind went back to that occasion and remembered another, far more pleasurable, part of the encounter and the conversation that had led up to it. Being a creature who knew an opportunity when it was staring him in the face or, indeed, crying on his shoulder, Spike asked the only question possible in the circumstance: "Care to help make my last three minutes memorable?"

Willow raised her head and looked intently into his eyes for a long moment before speaking a single word:

"Yes."


	18. Chapter 18

Spike grinned to himself as he looked down on the living girl in his arms. He wondered how many had he held like this since his second life had begun all those years before. So many faces filled with fear, so many bodies striving desperately to escape from his grasp. None of them had, of course. Would Willow? He guessed they'd just have to find out.

A part of him simply wanted to him to hurl her to the mattress and bury himself in her warmth, but if this was going to be his final curtain call he damned well wanted it to last.

He lowered his face into the juncture of her shoulder and neck, drinking in the scent and listening to the throbbing of her pulse - a rhythm that become faster as he nuzzled the collar of her pyjamas aside and allowed his lips to drift over the skin he had exposed. He could feel goosebumps rising wherever the chill of his touch passed. Nipping and tasting, his mouth moved slowly down to her collarbone and then up the column of her throat.

As he reached her jawbone he raised his head and stared into her eyes once more, then smiled crookedly and raised one eyebrow. 

"Isn't it time you joined in the fun, pet?"

She smiled back at him then and wound her arms around his neck, meeting his lips in a kiss filled with the kind of sweet generosity that he had rarely met in his life or death. He pulled her close and lost himself in sensation for a long moment before sweeping her into his arms and depositing her onto the crisp cotton sheets of her single bed. 

"Pity it's not satin," he remarked as he joined her, swiftly pinning her beneath him.

"With leopard skin pillows," giggled Willow, somewhat breathlessly.

"Well, who's a kinky little madam?" He enquired as his hands busied themselves with the buttons of her top, pausing each time to lick the skin he exposed and causing Willow to wriggle delightfully against him in the process. Raising himself up on his knees and pulling Willow with him, he supported her with one hand while his other opened the top and slid it down over her shoulders to pool behind her on the pillows. His head dipped and his mouth explored the peaks that he had just exposed. He could feel the flesh tauten beneath the sweep of his tongue as they rose and fell in time with Willow's shortening breath.

He moved downwards across skin that now glistened with sweat and tugged playfully on the waistband of her pyjama bottoms with his teeth. Obediently, she raised her hips and allowed him to pull them off and throw them to one side. Looking down at the sight he had just revealed, he pulled his t-shirt over his head and discarded it before resuming his journey.

Willow was writhing now, much as she had whilst under the influence of Reculance's drugs, except now it was Spike's touch that was the drug as he wove a web of desire around her with fleeting touches and slow caresses. He felt her hands slip between them and her trembling fingers fumble with the fastenings of his jeans. Only too happy to oblige, he raised himself and allowed her to undo the zip and push the trousers over his hips. As her hands became preoccupied with his buttocks, he hooked a toe into the hem, pulled them down to his ankles and kicked them off with an expertise honed over decades of practice. 

Now that they were both naked Spike could feel his passion rise beyond control. He slid between her legs and drove into her welcoming body, starting a insistent rhythm that Willow met with a fierce passion of her own. As he pushed her relentlessly to the edge and over, he felt his own orgasm approaching with a pleasure so sharp it was almost pain - and with it his game face. If he was going to die so be it, but this time he was not going alone. As his body went rigid, he drew back his lips and prepared to strike. But before his fangs could break the skin of her throat a different kind of pain spiralled through his body. He fell forward onto Willow's suddenly limp form and knew no more.

Three people stood and looked down on the unconscious bodies of the couple. One, a woman whom Spike would have recognised had he been in any state to do so, lowered the tranquilliser gun she held and gestured to a slight young man at her side.

"You know what to do, Claudio."

As the youth moved over to the limp bodies on the bed, she turned to her other companion, Felix Radburn, who stood beside her looking as immaculate as ever.

"You chose well when you picked this one for your diversion, Radburn."

"Yes, he has certainly lived up to my expectations...if one may say that of the undead." he smiled mirthlessly at his companion, before continuing: "I congratulate you a job well done, Miss Morgan, your manipulation of Rauk was most impressive. May I also say how pleased I am that I wasn't called upon to put an end to you as a result of this mission."

Lilah smiled. "The feeling is entirely mutual, Radburn. I hope we have the pleasure of working together again in the future." 

Felix inclined his head graciously. "In this life or the next."

Lilah continued. "There were times when I wondered if you'd lose control of all your schemes, but it worked out rather well in the end. Our clients have got rid of their loose cannon, Wolfram and Hart has the serum with no one the wiser, and a potential threat to the Senior Partners has been removed. The only thing anyone will remember is that Rauk lost his grasp on reality once he'd taken the serum and caused a riot that destroyed the place. Even if they wanted to risk the experiment again, all of the data has been removed into our safe keeping."

"What about the Facility?" he asked.

"Once we've removed anything useful Reculance can sell it. Maybe they can persuade the military to take it back off their hands."

Felix nodded in agreement "Military Intelligence is indeed an oxymoron." Lilah grinned at him as he continued: "Nearly all of the loose ends are tied up. It's just a shame we can't simply eradicate these two - after all, thanks to your ruse with the antidote, the vampire didn't expect to survive the night so we would merely be fulfilling his expectations." He paused. "By the way, though I appreciate the neatness in arranging to find both of them in one place, why did you need to make him think he was going to be destroyed? After all, we already knew where to find the girl."

"Why not? Besides, it was fun." Lilah shrugged. "Anyhow, orders are orders. Both of them have potential that the Company could use in the future, so they've got to stay amongst the living - even if, as you so accurately pointed out, one of them doesn't actually participate in the state any more. Fortunately we have the talented Claudio to shut them down in the meantime." She turned back to the youth, asking: "Well? What's the verdict?"

Claudio opened his eyes and raised his hands from where they had been resting on Spike's head. "It shouldn't take much to overlay the memories of this summer with something more mundane. It should hold unless something happens to trigger off the real memories - that's always a risk."

Lilah frowned. "What sort of thing could act as the trigger?"

Claudio gestured at the pair, still as closely locked together as they had been during their desperate and interrupted coupling. "Unlikely though it seems, there's a strange sort of bond between the two, perhaps something born out of their shared experience. I would say that the greatest likelihood of them regaining their memories would occur should they become intimate again."

"Then we'll just have to make sure that they don't. Have you found anything in there we can work with?"

The youth nodded "Oh yes, the girl at least is very conflicted over her sexuality so she should be simple. She has feelings for the vampire, but there's a woman she cares deeply for, who makes her feel special. We can simply reinforce these tendencies and turn her existing attachment to the woman into a necessity."

"Do it," Lilah ordered. "Make it so she'd do anything to keep her, anything at all." Nodding in Spike's direction, she asked: "What about the vampire?"

"I'd suggest that we take the same tack, make him passionately in love with another - someone who's already a point of weakness."

Felix agreed. "The records show that he spent decades with a female called Drusilla, his sire and one of Angelus' get. It should be easy enough to re-align his loyalties back to her."

Claudio shook his head. "No - there's someone in there who's linked to blood and pain, but it's no vampire. A human, but more than human. She deals death to his kind and he both wants her and hates her."

Lilah gasped, and then broke into delighted laughter. "The Slayer? He's attracted to the Slayer? That's just priceless."

Felix raised an eyebrow "He's certainly a perplexing creature."

Lilah nodded in agreement. "He comes from a line of perplexing creatures, and one of them is not going to be at all happy if he starts moving in on the Slayer. The bosses are going to be very pleased, I really couldn't have planned it better if I'd been trying." 

"Well, In the circumstances I'm sure the Company would be happy to underwrite a spot of celebration, should this town possess anything even remotely resembling a decent restaurant." Radburn grimaced faintly. "Would you care to join me for a late supper?"

Lilah's smile became more calculating. "That would be delightful, Radburn."

"Please, do call me Felix."

"That would be delightful...Felix."

"Come then, gastronomic pleasures await." He offered his arm to Lilah. "Claudio, brief the clean-up crew and then get to work."

With that the three who would remember the events of the summer left the room to the pair who would not.

FIN


End file.
